Eyeshield 27
by PocketAces
Summary: Sena runs into an old friend while walking with Monta and Juumonji. ES21/KHR Crossover. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn

* * *

"Juumonji-kun, if you would just…" Sena broke off suddenly. "Please don't glare at me," He entreated coaxingly. "Hiruma-san said you may have a concussion from the last hit, and if you're not careful you could fai-."

"I do not faint!" Juumonji argued heatedly.

"Of course not," Sena agreed soothingly, "but if you were to _pass out_ while you were walking home, you'd be seriously injured in the street somewhere and Hiruma-san would kill both of us for not following his orders."

Juumonji just grunted.

Sighing, Sena offered him a compromise. "You could just put your hand on my shoulder as we walk, that way you wouldn't have to lean on me," 'and I'm not sure I could hold your weight up anyway,' he thought with a trace of self-deprecation. "But I'd still know if you were losing your balance and be there to help you."

"Fine." Juumonji was, in fact, absolutely _not_ fine with this arrangement, but with Kuroki and Toganou stuck with post practice clean-up for being late; there was little he could do about it. "But why is the stupid monkey following us?"

("Who're you calling a monkey!?")

Sena smiled lightly at the minor concession 'That could have been a lot harder.' "Monta-kun and I are going to be working on homework after we drop you off; we have the English project, remember?"

"You sure put it off 'til the last second."

"Yeah…" Sena sweated, "I guess I was a little overwhelmed with the hearings for a while, and then getting caught up in recruitment… Plus, we have the whole weekend to work on it, well, other than the game tomorrow."

After winning the Christmas Bowl in December, Hiruma had poured all of his time, efforts, and resources – read: blackmail - into changing the rules at Deimon so that third years are able to stay in clubs. His arguments were sound; that it would round out an application, giving an edge at competitive colleges, and that Deimon's teams would be more structurally sound if they consisted of more than rookies and varsity with no in-between. He was however changing several generations of tradition and the school board drug out the proceeding as long as they possibly could, calling hearings after hearings on the subject. In the end, Hiruma had, of course, gotten his way. The idea that Hiruma would be able to just watch the Deimon Devil Bats practice and play without being active was laughable, and he managed to procure himself, Kurita-san, Musashi-san, Yukimitsu-san, and even Mamori-nee another year of playing for and helping out the team.

By the time the hearing were over, the entrance exams had taken place, and the team shifted focus from simply practicing for the Spring Tournament, (although they were doing that too!), to recruiting some new first years. With the extra year grace period, Hiruma-dsn was anxious to train his own quarterback replacement. Sena had been working day and night to sort through P.E. class data from all the freshmen (obtained legally, he was _sure_), and watching all of them personally (he refused to call it stalking, like Hiruma-san did). After all, a poor score on a physical examination didn't mean that the student couldn't have incredible talent, Sena knew.

"Juumonji, where do you live, is it far?" Monta asked suddenly.

Sena's eyes widened incredulously; they had been teammates for almost a year and; come to think about it, he only really knew Kurita's and Monta's home addresses.

"No, not too far… I live over by Namimori middle school." Juumonji assured as they started walking.

"If that's the case, why did you attend Deimon, rather than Namimori high?" Monta asked.

"Toganou and Kuroki live closer to Deimon, and Deimon is easier to get into, so I guess I never really bothered to consider Namimori at all." He shrugged. "It's not that much more of a walk, not like Ikari's commute from here to Oujou."

"I guess that's true… Hey, did you do a PowerPoint or a poster for your project?" Monta abruptly changed the subject.

Sena smiled lightly. He was glad Juumonji-kun, Kuroki-kun, and Toganou-kun all came to Deimon together; it was fun playing American football with them. Sena gradually started relaxing, Juumonji was teasing Monta about the "English even a Monkey can Understand" book Taki had mistaken for his, and Monta, though arguing heatedly, wasn't stirred up to the point that Sena would have to step in. His attention left the seemingly empty sidewalk to laugh at something Juumonji had said, when he found himself on the ground clutching his head.

"Hiii, that hurt!" Sena looked up swiftly at the voice seemingly echoing him and met amber eyes.

Two groups of boys stood facing each other awkwardly on the sidewalk, each keeping an eye on their respective brunet. At first Monta thought it was just a trick of the light, but after sneaking a peek at all the other people standing, he knew they saw it too.

"..."

"It's Sena's evil doppelganger!" Monta cried out posing dramatically.

"Hey! Who are you calling evil!? The Tenth is a great guy! Your friend should be apologizing to him!" The gray haired teen exclaimed, reaching for his cigerette.

"You've got quite a mouth on you for a middle school brat." Juumonji slowly sized the younger-looking kids up. Other than the brown haired brat still sitting on the ground with he and Sena still staring at each other, there was a gray haired foreign looking kid, and a black haired kid just laughing at the situation. He could probably take 'em.

"Mou, mou, Gokudera, I'm sure he didn't mean..."

"SENA-NII!"

They all turned to stare at the boys on the ground, vaguely noting the younger one had just tacked Sena with an enormous hug.

"Sena-Nii I haven't seen you in forever! Did you come to visit? What have you been doing? Where have you been?!"

Sena chucked, "It's great to see you again too, Tsuna-kun"

"You have a little brother Sena-kun!?" Monta stared down at them.

"How many times do I have to say I'm an only child?" Sena huffed, "Hop up Tsuna-kun, Juumonji-kun, could you give me a hand, please?"

"Sure ask the concussed guy to help you up." Juumonji smirked, "Aren't you gonna introduce us to your little brother?"

"Ah! Sorry, sorry, Monta-kun, Juumonji-kun, this is Sawada Tsunayoshi; Tsuna-kun, these are my friends and teammates, Raimon Taro and Juumonji Kazuki." He said, pointing to one than the other.

"Just call me Monta, everyone does," he grinned good-naturedly.

Not that Juumonji would ever admit it, but he was rather pleased that shrimp had referred to him as not only a teammate, but also as a friend. "Who're they?" He asked gruffly, to cover up any suspicion that he could _possibly_ be touched by the introduction.

"This is Gokudera Hayato and Yamamoto Takeshi, my friends and classmates." Tsuna was rather still rather flushed, as the initial rush of joy he felt seeing his Sena-nii was slowly fading, he was rather embarrassed for tackle-glomping him. "Do you have time? Could we go somewhere and catch up?"

It was Sena's turn to blush, "I'm so sorry, Tsuna-kun, I'm helping Juumonji-kun home, he got a bit of an injury at practice, nothing he couldn't handle!" He exclaimed in alarm at the dark look he was getting from Juumonji, "But our first game is Saturday and we have to be extra careful."

"Oh." Tsuna said in a small voice. "Later?"

Sena grimaced. He felt terrible! There before him was his childhood friend and he couldn't even find time to stop and chat with him. "Monta-kun and I have a project to work on. But are you busy tomorrow?" He inquired ignoring the questioning glances from his teammates. "If you'd like, we could spend the day together after the game…"

"What game?" Asked Yamamoto hopefully, "Baseball?"

"No, I'm sorry… Umm, here…" Sena started rummaging around in his backpack, pulled out a pen and paper and sketched out a quick map before jotting down a set of directions and his cell phone number. "If you'd like, you could watch the game, and we could hang out afterwards," he handed over the directions.

"I-I'd love to! Around what time?" Tsuna asked.

"Game starts at 1:05, so if you want to meet around 11:30, we could grab a quick lunch before warm-ups. The directions are to Deimon, from here, so you should be able to find it alright." Sena told him. "But for now, I've made Juumonji-kun and Monta-kun wait long enough. See you Saturday, Tsuna-kun?"

"Yeah, for sure! See ya Sena-nii." He waved at Juumonji and Monta as Juumonji put his hand back on Sena's shoulder and they passed Tsuna's small group to drop Juumonji off.

"You know, Tsuna…" Yamamoto started watching the trio disappear around a corner, "You never really introduced 'Sena-nii' to us."

"Oh. OH! I'm so sorry! Sena-nii and I used to play together as kids, so I forget that you wouldn't know him. His full name is Kobayakawa Sena."

"What?" Yamamoto deadpanned. "You don't mean _the_ Kobayakawa Sena, right?"

"Oi, what are you talking about baseball idiot? The Tenth already told you his name. Are you calling him a liar?" Gokudrera looked smug... calling the boss a liar was not very right hand manly.

"Kobayakawa Sena is also known as Eyeshield 21, the fastest Amefuto player in Japan, he's as fast as a pro NFL player! He and the Deimon Devil Bats _won_ the Christmas Bowl this past year!"

"I thought you were only a baseball freak, why are you fangirl-ing over some little runner?" Gokudera frowned, not liking this increase in enthusiasm one bit.

"Raimon Taro – Oh, my God, I just met Monta! – Is one of the best wide receivers in Japan, they say he can catch _anything_. I saw him a few times when he was still playing baseball, his dedication is amazing! He was terrible at everything but catching, but he still worked harder than the rest of the team put together. Eventually Kobayakawa Sena convinced him to play as wide receiver and his efforts helped lead the Devil Bats to victory!"

"Sugoi! Sena-nii is sure amazing…" Tsuna started off into space just imagining how the game would go tomorrow. His big brother was the coolest.

"Silly Tsuna, why are you daydreaming in the street?" Reborn greeted with a kick to the head. "Am I not giving you enough to do?"

"Hiii, no Reborn, I've plenty to do… in fact, I'll go do it now!" Tsuna bolted.

"That wasn't very nice, Reborn-san, Tsuna just found his brother today." Gokudera supplied (un)helpfully.

"Did he then…" Reborn mused, "I'll just have to meet him myself," and headed off in the direction Tsuna ran.

"You shouldn't play too rough with him though, little guy. Sena is Deimon's ace, and spring tournament is just starting." Yamamoto added.

"Shut up baseball idiot! Reborn-san can do whatever the hell he wants!" Gokudera and Yamamoto followed, with Gokudera bickering and Yamamoto laughing.

* * *

A/N: I have an actual story plotted out if y'all like this. This came out to roughly 1,500 words and I haven't a beta, so hopefully I caught everything.

I pray this was at least semi-believable, seeing as I really enjoy the idea of a KHR/ES21 crossover. I was browsing thought the ES21 Archive this morning there was a crossover staring me right in the face. Umm… it's good, it's called The Demone Family, so go check that out you crazy kids, but no, I didn't plagiarize… My inspiration came from F.A. Star Hawk's ficlet, Like looking into a Mirror. Which I loved.

Haha, I'm so mean, but I had a lot of fun making Yamamoto into a Sena!Fanboy. H'anyway… Sorry if my torrid love affair with parenthesis and ellipsis spilled over into the story, and umm… I actually use those use those kinda words IRL, so hopefully it wasn't so verbose that it made you reach for a dictionary. Please forgive my verbing of nouns.

Thanks to Shinnie The Meanie for teh editz.

Hope you enjoyed, read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

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Tsuna woke up chipper, knowing that he'd be able to spend the _whole_ day with his big brother. He had discussed it with Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto and they had decided to meet at Tsuna's house at 10am so they'd be sure to meet Sena on time. He was fairly hopping around getting ready. After surveying himself in the mirror to make sure his hair was in order (or as orderly as it could get) he ran downstairs, taking the last three with a jump. Humming to himself, he made his way into the kitchen to greet his mom and grab an apple before Gokudera and Yamamoto got there.

"You're sure lively this morning, did something good happen?" Questioned Nana with a smile as her son pecked her on the cheek while reaching around her for said fruit.

"I ran into Sena-nii yesterday and we're hanging out today!" Tsuna chirped. "We have plans all day, first we're gonna get lunch, then we're gonna go watch his game, then we're going out afterward!" Tsuna stopped for a moment, leaning against the table where I-pin, Lambo, Reborn, and Bianchi were eating breakfast. "That reminds me mom, why did Sena-nii and I stop playing together as kids, it's not like either of us moved away."

Nana sighed, "I guess that would be my and Mihae's fault… We got into a disagreement about a small matter and both overreacted. I fumed about it for months, and by the time I realized how silly it was, I couldn't bring myself to apologize; I was too embarrassed." She broke off, looking down in shame. "I always felt bad, my foolish pride costing both of us our best friends. But then I thought about how close you two were and thought it might be for the best. After all, when you and Sena-chan were playing, you'd never want to let anyone else play either." She smiled to herself. "It was adorable, but I was concerned. I thought you should have more friends, and not rely so much on Sena-chan." She started to tear up. "If I had known I would take you 'til middle school to make such close friends again, I would have swallowed my foolish pride and apologized to Mihae."

"Mom…" Tsuna hugged her. It had hurt not seeing his best friend and surrogate big brother, and he may never understand the overwhelming protectiveness that motivated her to separate them in order for him to make more friends, theoretically, but, he did see it hurt her to see her only son picked on and lonely for so many years.

"Don't worry Maman," Bianchi broke in. "My little brother is taking good care of him."

"Yes," And if Nana's smile was a little watery, everyone had the tact not to mention it. "Tsu-kun has so many good friends now. I'm very happy. And now with Sena-chan and Tsu-kun playing together again, it may be time for an overdue apology." Her smile was bright and even Reborn had to smile back. "Will Mihae-chan and Shiyuma-san be at Sena-chan's game today?"

"I don't know mom, Sena-nii and I only ran into each other briefly yesterday." Tsuna admitted.

"Well, if that's the case, how do you know where the game will be?" She worried.

"Sena-nii is meeting us at Deimon high; I assumed we'd head to the game from there after lunch." Tsuna explained.

"Lambo-san wants to play too!" Lambo demanded.

"Stupid cow, it's not that sort of game."

"Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto! When did you get here?!" Tsuna jumped back, startled.

Yamamoto grinned, "No one was answering the door, so we let ourselves in. Are you ready to go Tsuna?"

"Lambo-san wants to go too!" He howled. I-Pin also looked up imploringly.

Tsuna shot a desperate look at Nana.

"Well, I did want to see little Sena-chan again, would it be alright to visit Deimon later with the kids and go to the game as well?"

"Tsuna would love it Maman." Reborn broke in. "Be sure to meet us there around 12:30, the game starts at 1:05." He finished.

"How could you possibly know that!?" Tsuna cried out.

"Dame-Tsuna, there is nothing I don't know." He answered with a creepy smirk.

"Let's go Tsuna, we're gonna be late." Yamamoto urged.

'Wow, he really is excited about this.' Thought Tsuna.

Gokudera and Yamamoto followed Tsuna out to the entrance hall, and they all put their shoes on. Reborn hopped onto Tsuna's shoulder and settled in.

"Wait a minute Reborn, you're coming too!?" Tsuna asked.

"We can't let the Vongola heir wander in a large crowd without an escort, now can we?" Reborn questioned rhetorically.

Gokudera grunted in approval.

Tsuna sighed, but let the comment pass, writing it off as the craziness than was his life.

--

"Sena-nii! What are you doing?"

Sena looked up from where he was leaning against the wall outside of Deimon.

"Tsuna-kun!" He greeted. "I'm glad I beat you here; our team captain and quarterback Hiruma-san did something crazy again." He sweated, "On the plus side, we don't have to find somewhere to eat any more."

"What do you mean Sena-nii?"

Sena just motioned for them to follow him.

"Oi, Amefuto-freak, why is it so loud on a Saturday?" Questioned Gokudera.

"Ah, that's part of it…" He moved to the side so they could look through the gates.

All three jaws dropped simultaneously.

"A festival? You were having a festival and didn't tell us?" Tsuna pouted.

Sena waved his arms as if he were trying to wave away the accusation. "Hiruma-san always does crazy things without telling the team, from what I could gather from Musashi-san, Hiruma-san found out about a nearby neighborhood festival and convinced them they'd get more business if they set up at Deimon before the game." He shook his head. Only Hiruma-san could setup a last minute festival before the first game of Spring Tournament. "I wanted to introduce you to him, and ask him to get tickets for you all, but he seems to have disappeared somewhere."

"Sena-kun! Sena-kun!! Have you seen You-nii?"

Sena turned to a blue-haired girl in a Devil Bats cheerleading uniform skating toward him. "Suzuna! No, I haven't, but let me introduce my little brother Sawada Tsunayoshi, and his friends, Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto-kun."

"YA! He looks just like you!" She exclaimed, "Are you sure you're not related?"

Sena laughed, "We used to play together all the time before Mamori-nee and I met each other."

"It's nice to meet you Tsuna-kun, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto-kun, but Mamo-nee wants to go over the new signs she made for today's game with You-nii, so let me know if you see him, k?" And she skated off.

"That was… abrupt," Yamamoto laughed. "Is she your girlfriend Kobayakawa-san?"

Sena turned bright red. "No! Suzuna and I are good friends, though and I told her about you guys this morning, and she was really excited to meet you. The signs must be really important for her to not stick around."

"Well after you won the Christmas Bowl, many of the Devil Bat's signs and codes were broken over the break, if not though watching the game, as a personal challenge."

They all turned and stared a Yamamoto.

"…"

"Ah… You must love Amefuto, Kumabukuro-san wrote a whole article about that last month." Sena rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Che, he's a baseball idiot, not an American football idiot, better to say, he's an Eyeshield 21 fan." Gokudera smirked, delighted at the chance to embarrass his rival for right hand man.

Yamamoto face was fiery, but he still grinned, "I guess that's true, Kobayakawa-san, I really admire you."

'I looks like they're competing on who can blush brighter' Tsuna gazed in awe. 'Oh, that color can't be healthy; ummm… what can I do to break this up?' Tsuna screwed his eyes shut and yelled the first thing that came to mind. "SENA-NII! You still haven't met Reborn yet!"

Sena looked up from where he'd been staring at the ground awkwardly, startled at Tsuna's outburst. "Oh, is he your little brother? Nice to meet you Reborn-chan." Sena lifted his hand to shake Reborn's.

"No, I'm Tsuna's home-tutor." Reborn smirked shaking Sena's hand.

"Reborn!"

"He's a funny kid," Tsuna smiled. "Come on, let's all go get something to eat, yeah?"

They wandered around for a while, lightly chatting and playing games. They took in the sights, marveling that all of this could be set up essentially overnight.

"Originally, this was supposed to be just a small informational gathering and pre-game cheerleading show, before Hiruma-san decided to go all out." Sena explained, "But we're lucky, 'cuz all my teammates are supposed to be here, so when we see them I can introduce them to you all. Plus, like I said earlier, we can eat here. Do you like tako yaki?"

They all nodded affirmatively and Sena grinned. "I'll be right back."

"Sena-nii, you don't have to…" But Sena had already run off to treat them.

"Your brother's a nice guy, Tsuna." Yamamoto commented looking the direction Sena had gone.

"Heh, he's probably just showing off." Gokudera groused, irritated his plan to embarrass Yamamoto had failed.

"He has the characteristics of a family member, but does he have the physical power?" Reborn mused to himself.

"Reborn! You can't be serious!"

"Serious about what?" Sena questioned, handing out the tako yaki.

"SAWADA! Are you here to see the game?! It's going to be EXTREME!"

Tsuna, Gokudera, and Yamamoto looked up in alarm at the familiar voice.

"Onii-san! Kyoko-chan! What are you doing here?" Tsuna yelped

Kyoko-chan smiled, "Onii-chan is a fan of the Devil Bats."

"They're tough to the EXTREME!"

"Tsuna-kun, are these your friends?"

"Ah! Yes! This is Sasagawa Ryohei and Kyoko. Kyoko-chan is in my class." Tsuna explained," Onii-san, Kyoko-chan, this is Sena-nii, we used to play together when we were children."

"It's nice to meet you." Sena greeted.

"What the hell are you doing here turf-head?! This day is for the Tenth and his brother! We don't need you getting in the way!"

"Then there's no need for you to be here, right octopus-head?" Ryohei asked smugly

"I'll kill you!!" Gokudera roared and pulled out his dynamite.

"Gokudera, not here!" Tsuna cried, reaching to disarm him. Unfortunately he was too far away, and by the time he reached Gokudera, they were lit. Tsuna smacked them away and watched in horror as they rolled to the supports of a nearby stand.

"You might want to get down." Reborn stated conversationally from Kyoko's shoulder nibbling on Tsuna's tako yaki.

"TENTH!"

"TSUNA!"

BOOM!

The dynamite exploded, knocking out the supports, bringing down the stand directly on Tsuna and Gokudera.

Or so Tsuna thought, as he watched it fall from ten yards away.

"Tenth? What just happened?"

"Sorry," Sena panted, "I was caught off guard… I should have gotten you two out of the way once the fireworks were lit…"

"Sena-nii?!" Just how fast are you?!"

"FUCKING-CHIBI! What the hell were you thinking? You could have pulled something before the game!" The crowd parted quickly and revealed the scariest man Tsuna had ever seen. Blond-haired, green-eyed, and gun-toting, the high-schooler looked like a demon.

"Hiruma-san" Sena beamed. "I had plenty of time, I was just surprised. Hey! I've been looking for you! You told me to tell you if I ever need tickets to the games, and my brother and his friend need tickets."

While Sena was arguing with Hiruma over whether or not he was in any danger, Tsuna took the time to talk to Gokudera who was looking rather shaken up.

"Gokudera-kun? Are you alright? Did you get injured in the blast?" Tsuna inquired.

"I almost killed you! What kind of right hand man am I?" He held his head in his hands. "And your brother… He's so fast!" Gokudera looked up, shocked. "How is that possible? He saved your life, and felt bad he hadn't been faster."

"He saved your life too, Gokudera-kun."

"FINE! How many tickets do you need fucking-chibi?" Tsuna shot Gokudera a look saying they _would_ be talking about this later.

Sena looked over to Tsuna where he was being crowded around by his friends.

"Let's see; me, Yamamoto, Gokudera-kun, Reborn, Onii-san, and Kyoko-chan. Oh! And mom is supposed to arrive later with two other children, so that makes six adults and three children."

"Kufufu, you'd better make it nine adults and three children, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Tsuna was abruptly pulled away with Yamamoto and Gokudera from the larger crowd.

"Rokudou Mukuro?! What? How?"

"Didn't you find it suspicious, Tsunayoshi, that you'd run into your sun guardian here? Your little arcobaleno summoned us all here."

"Did you really think you could sit though a large sporting event surrounded by hundreds of people without your guardians, dame-Tsuna?" Reborn mocked.

"Long time no see, Vongola." Greeted Chikusa.

"I don't see why we had to follow the Vongola around." Grumbled Ken.

"Who are your friends Tsuna-kun?"

"Ah! Sena-nii! These are," he did a double check just to make sure of Mukuro's current gender, "Dokuro Chrome, and her friends Chikusa, and Ken."

"You're really popular." Sena smiled. "Okay, Hiruma-san, eleven adults (my parents are coming too), and three children."

"Kekeke, that's gonna cost you, fucking-shrimp." Hiruma cackled.

"Hiruma-san! I know you have a block of tickets reserved in case you need to intimidate someone, and I also know you have an allowance of tickets for every player for every game, and so far I've been _way_ under budget!"

Hiruma's grin turned sour. "I liked it better when you were still afraid of me. Fine fucking-chibi, they'll be waiting at the game for you. Do one of you have a photo ID?" The Demon barked.

"I-I have my school ID… will that work?" Tsuna asked.

"Lemme see." Hiruma demanded.

Tsuna dug it out and handed it over. The high schooler looked it over and handed it back.

"Yeah that'll do. Show the ticket sellers that and tell them your name, and they'll give you them. The shrimp's parents will be separate; they'll also have to have an ID."

"Thank you Hiruma-san." Sena said gratefully.

"Whatever." He grunted. "Just don't be late."

* * *

A/N: Wow, this chapter really got away from me; I had more to put in it, but I also wanted to end it like 800 words ago… I want to thank everyone for their kind words and reviews, and for all the encouragement. I typed all of this up today, so I've edited it the best I could, especially without a beta. As always read and please review. One last note: This week has been one of the worst weeks of my life and all your kind review were some of the only bright spots in my horrible, horrible week.

Kukuku, I have plans for Gokkun, Reborn, Sena, and Hiruma. I'm so excited for the next chapter, It's gonna have the parts that made me laugh out loud while planning it!

Favorite parts -- creeper Yamamoto stalking Sena, Reborn eating Tsuna's takoyaki while watching Gokudera destroy a stand, Mukuro's "Current gender"

Thanks to Shinnie The Meanie for teh editz.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sena-nii?"

Sena looked up from the ground that had captivated his interest ever since his team captain had left. "Hmmm?" He murmured quizzically, looking up at Tsuna's quiet call.

"Your team captain is scary." Tsuna informed him, matter-of-factly, as if this were something his brother hadn't noticed yet. Tsuna knew he sounded childish pointing out the obvious but he really, really needed his big brother to say something. It was rather unsettling watching his childhood playmate be so serious.

Sena burst out laughing. "Yeah, Hiruma-san has a tendency to leave that impression," he smiled tenderly at Tsuna. "But his bark is worse than his bite. Well, usually. I mean, I guess he couldn't miss so often if it weren't intentional, he was a great shot in Texas. But then again, the second time I met him he did literally tie me up and drag me to the club house. He doesn't set Cerberus on us nearly as often though…" Sena rambled.

Tsuna sweated with a nervous smile twitching on his lips. He wasn't sure –

"WHAT!? How dare he disrespect the Tenth's brother like that?!" They all turned and stared at Gokudera. Even Chrome, Chikusa, and Ken looked up from their quiet conversation. "Don't worry Kobayakawa-san, I'll go get the bastard for you." He smirked holding out handfuls of dynamite.

"Gokudera, I thought you…" Yamamoto trailed off not knowing how what to say next. "Well, I thought you didn't like Kobayakawa-san much." He finished lamely, trying not to look at the person in question.

Gokudera dropped his head letting his bangs cover his face and tucked away the explosives (to Tsuna's relief). Even though the camouflage, though, Tsuna thought he saw his storm guardian's cheeks tint slightly pink. "His devotion to the Tenth is no longer questioned." He mumbled to the fascinating cracks in the sidewalk, "and therefore is worthy of respect and famiglia protection." He looked up with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But not outright devotion." He directed at Yamamoto.

"Ano… no need to be so formal, you know," Sena smiled, delighted he made another friend. "You can just call me Sena," he hesitated, "All of you." His gaze swept Tsuna's unusually quiet group. "Everyone does" He finished, pleased he had finally worked his courage up to the point that he addressed what had been bothering him since he met the odd group. "Anyway, this is still a festival, so you should all go enjoy it! I'll go wait for our parents at the front gates." He offered to Tsuna.

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't be able to know when they got there." Tsuna pointed out.

"Ah! That's true." Sena rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I hadn't thought of that. I don't suppose any of you carry a cell, do you?" He asked hopefully.

"I never do – TO THE EXTREME!" Sena jumped about a foot away, nervous as a cat, shying away from the overenthusiastic proclamation.

"Onii-chan isn't very good with technology." Kyoko admitted bashfully.

"I know the type." Sena returned, shaken.

"I do, Kobaya – Sena-sempai." Offered Yamamoto.

"Great! What's your number? Then I can call you and you'll have my number if something comes up." Sena asked, feeling more comforted, knowing that he'd be able to get a hold of one of his little brother's best friends, should something come up.

Yamamoto blanked. Number? What number? For some reason the number 80 was popping into his head, but he was sure that wasn't what Sena-sempai was talking about…

"My number's xxx-xxx-xxxx," Gokudera broke in, irritated with the baseball idiot spacing out.

"Ah! That's not fair, Gokudera! Mine's xxx-xxx-xxxx!" Yamamoto broke in.

"Eto… Could you both slow down a little? That was xxxx, right Yamamoto-san?" Sena confirmed, completely absorbed in adding to his contact list and missing Gokudera's smug look. "You don't have a cell yet, Tsuna-kun?" He asked.

"I don't think I know enough people to need one yet," Tsuna admitted miserably.

"That's okay," Sena assured him, "When I got mine, I only had one number. But now, I have so many good friends, and a long contact list. Now, go enjoy yourselves, I'll be standing by the front gates and I'll either call Yamamoto-san or Gokudera-san when Nana-san and okaa-san arrive." He shooed them away.

Tsuna turned hesitantly; he did want to explore, but the whole point of the day was to spend time with Sena-nii. Well, at least this would give him a chance to straighten out this whole 'body' guardian thing…

"Oh, are you staying with me then, home tutor-san?"

Tsuna froze. Reborn staying with Sena-nii without direct supervision was _not_, repeat, _not_ a good idea.

"On second thought, Sena-nii-," He started.

"Get a move on, dame-Tsuna." Reborn's hard, black eyes bored into Tsuna, leaving him no choice but to turn back around, especially with the grip of a hand gun subtly sticking out of his jacket.

Tsuna was suddenly sure he could handle the guardian situation himself.

--

"Chrome, do you know what Mukuro was talking about?" Tsuna asked, vaguely irritated his day out was ruined. Don't misunderstand, he was head over heels that Kyoko-chan was enjoying the festival with him, but he just wanted to spend time with his brother, darn it!

"Mukuro-sama didn't specify, but he did imply that at least one on the opposing team has connections with a low-level Yakuza family in the area. Reborn-san mentioned something about Momokyokai, and said you had humiliated them and they've been causing problems trying to consolidate what's left of their power. Reborn-san's just looking out for you, Boss." She assured him.

"HIII!? Momokyokai?" Tsuna was terrified, remembering Reborn and Dino's stunt. "Wait, really?" Tsuna asked doubtfully, Reborn never seemed to be bothered about potential threats, preferring to shoot him when all hope seemed lost.

"So lame that you'd need body guards for the game anyway. Momokyokai is weak; when we took over Kokuyou Center we trashed them pretty good," scoffed Ken.

"So they've been embarrassed explicitly by Vongola or those with Vongola ties?" Gokudera clarified, lighting his cigarette.

"Those punks that kidnapped Tsuna?" Yamamoto confirmed. "We'll have to be extra careful this time then," he grinned while throwing an arm around Tsuna.

"Body-guarding Sawada?" Ryohei asked. "He's got the passion and strength to join the boxing club. It seems odd you'd need our help." He finished off directly to the underclassman.

"Ano… Tsuna-kun… why would you need a body guard?"

The group turned to Kyoko, unsure what to say.

"Sawada has a huge sumo match next week and his opponent hasn't been known to fight fair," Ryohei lied lamely.

"Ummm… let's go play this game." Tsuna turned in a random direction, physically changing the conversation.

--

"You know, Sena, you're rather famous now." Reborn stated from his perch on Sena's shoulder.

"That's very kind, but you're exaggerating, Reborn-chan. I'm just a quicker than average second year high school kid." Sena demurred.

"Well Tsuna, Gokudera, and Yamamoto all look up to you; and Gokudera and Yamamoto don't impress easily."

"I'm glad," Sena smiled wistfully. "Like Tsuna-kun, there were many lonely years up to this point. At least I had Mamori-nee, Tsuna-kun was alone for so long."

"Speaking of Tsuna, he wanted to give you something before the game, but he really is so timid." Reborn gauged his reaction out of the corner of his eye.

"That's odd, he's never been afraid to talk to me before," Sena frowned.

"Well, either way, he wanted me to give you this." Reborn dug into his jacket and pulled out an athletic wristband.

"Wow," Sena marveled, "this is incredibly beautiful, I'll have to thank him when we see him before the game."

"No need, Sena. You'd just embarrass him; what he would like, though, would be for you to wear it during the game and hold it up, making sure he can see you're wearing it before the game." Reborn assured him.

"Sena-chan!" Sena was engulfed it a huge hug. "I haven't see you in so long! You've grown so big Sena-chan!"

"It's great to see you again, Nana-san," Sena beamed.

"Pay attention to Lambo-san! Lambo's favorite foods are grapes and candy! He is here to kill Reborn!" Sena looked down and knelt to Lambo's level.

"It's nice to meet you Lambo-chan, and who is you little friend?" He asked reaching out his hand and shaking Lambo's.

"This is I-Pin" Nana introduced with a smile.

"What a pretty name, for a pretty girl" Sena smiled, I-Pin blushed.

"That's odd," Nana remarked, "Usually I-Pin is mistaken for a boy, and she dresses so tomboyishly."

"After Tsuna-kun and I stopped playing together, my mom set me up on play dates with the girl next door, Mamori-nee. For most of my childhood, my only friend was a girl, so I know an adorable little girl when I see one." He cooed rummaging through his school bag, and finding what he was looking for, handing the children chocolates. He straightened up offering Nana and Reborn the sweets too.

"Nana-chan!" Sena's mom hurried through the crowds and hugged her long-lost friend. "Nana-chan, I missed you so much."

Sena smiled and looked to Reborn as the adults chattered, eagerly making up for lost time. "I've got to call Yamamoto-san and Gokudera-san, are you sure Tsuna-kun doesn't want me to thank him?"

"He'll appreciate it more if you don't," he assured smugly.

--

"You remember where will-call is, don't you dad?" Sena fretted.

"Yes, Yes, Sena, now run along, you don't want to be late!" Shiyuma reassured.

Sena glanced at the large group of friends and family. "All right then, see you after the game."

"Don't forget Sena!" Reborn called out. Sena just raised his arm, wristband-less until the start of the game.

"Forget what?" Tsuna asked innocently.

"Well, we should start out too… the crowds have gotten really troublesome for Deimon games lately." Mihae prevented Reborn from having to answer.

--

"Sena, what was with that large crowd at the high school?" Asked Mamori as she handed him a water bottle while he was warming up.

"That was Tsuna-kun, his friends, and our parents." He purposely ignored Hiruma, Monta, and Suzuna eavesdropping.

"You don't mean your little brother Tsuna!? And you didn't introduce me!?" Mamori cried out. "I've always wanted to meet your little brother!"

"Don't worry Mamori-nee, we're going out after the game, so you'll be able to then."

"Don't get ahead of yourself fucking-chibi, we still need to FUCKING KILL THEM!!" Hiruma crowed, delighted at the prospect of the first game of the season.

"Mamori, have you seen my duffle bag?" Sena asked resolutely ignoring the rampaging demon behind him.

"I haven't moved it, so it should still be under the bench… why?"

Sena jogged over and rummaged though it pulling out the wrist band, "Tsuna-kun gave me a wristband for the game." He jogged back to show it off.

"Oh, wow, look at detail on this! And it looks like it was made by hand! But, Sena, what does this crest mean?"

"I don't know, Mamori-nee… his friend just asked me to show it off before the game starts." Sena admitted. He slipped it on his wrist and located Tsuna, only a few feet away in front row center seats. He raised his wrist like he was pumping his arm in victory, making sure to show off the gift's crest as well as he could.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Sena looked back, startled at the exclamation. He stared at the starting quarterback of their first round opponents, the Nihon Machine Guns, whose eyes were bugged out staring at his wristband.

Toganou, Kuroki, and Juumonji subtly stepped closer to the petite running back, not liking the thuggish challenging team's captain and his sudden interest in their running back. As they watched, two of his teammates stopped the Machine Guns' quarterback from marching up to Sena and, well, no one knew what he wanted, he just looked unnerved and pissed off.

--

"Wow, Sena-nii really got us great seats!"

"Yeah, it's almost impossible to get front row seats for the Deimon Devil Bats anymore!" Yamamoto agreed.

"They are really popular lately." Shiyuma affirmed.

Tsuna found Sena on the field digging around in his bag and waved at him as he was jogging back to the girl he had been talking to. Sena showed her what he'd pulled out of his bag and then put it on his wrist, raising it to show Tsuna.

Tsuna's jaw dropped and eyes got wide. "Reborn! What did you do?!"

"Hey, the Boss' brother's wearing the Vongola crest, does that mean he's part of the family now?" Chrome asked.

"NO!" Tsuna yelped.

"I don't like those thugs crowding around the Tenth's brother." Gokudera fumed, watching the 'huh-huh brothers' surrounding the newest member of the Tenth's family (at least in Gokudera's mind).

"Oh, do you know Sena-kun? The group looked over, facing one more complete shock before the game started.

* * *

Grr… I really wanted to write and finish the game, but like I told Shinnie the Meanie (thanks for the edits, by the way), writing this story is like herding cats. It seems like I'm writing more and more while writing less and less. Gah! Had to rewrite my plot outline 'cuz chapter 2 took a life of it's own. Ummm… I need to find a balance between not promising and update day and still letting someone know, so I have the pressure to write the damn thing already without the pressure of OMG I'll never get it done in time… While I was researching ES21 teams, you don't know how badly I wanted to put the Juujika Priests in for the Nihon Machine Guns. I giggle hysterically at the idea of the Priests and the Devil Bats facing off.

I'm kinda surprised no one commented on Tsuna hogging Sena while they were playing. I had a good excuse too. Vongola selfishness shining though; one of the qualities of a great boss, lol. Also, thanks to Lazy-Ass Ninja for the Yama-Sena-cell-fanboy-goodness. I laughed my ass off when they suggested it and had to stick it in (that's what she said.) So thanks! 

One last thing… while I type I'll get random and completely inappropriate out-takes or omakes that I giggle at, and jot down on a separate window. If you guys like my writing or sense of humor, let me know, and when I finish putting together enough, I'll post them… if you'd like of course.

As always, you guys are awesome for reviewing and helping me do my best! Please continue (or begin, I'm not picky) reviewing and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor the characters therein. (Characterizations on the Nihon Machine Guns, not the actual team, are mine.)

* * *

The football arched up into the devastatingly clear blue sky. Try as he might, Sena couldn't keep an eye on it as it reached its pinnacle into the glaring rays of the sun. He gave up on following the football's path and concentrated on the players who could be receiving it. He carefully moderated his speed, so that if called upon he could light-speed tackle the receiver. He didn't want to run too fast however, otherwise he'd arrive before the ball and he'd have to double back. Beside him, his best friend Monta was running full-tilt and keeping in step with Sena's easy lope.

The same sun that had attempted blinding him while he was watching the ball warmed his shoulders and what little of his face visible thought the infamous eyeshield and his helmet. The slight chill in the air from the early spring wind cooled him nicely, ensuring he didn't bake under the sun's rays. It was a beautiful day, he was running, he was with his best friend, his little brother was watching him, and he was playing his most favorite game in the world. Sena let out a little breathless joy-filled laugh, delighted with the day, his life, and the change that had happened to it in the span of one year.

"Fucking chibi! Get your ass in gear and out of the clouds! Number 42!"

Sena grinned at the one who had changed his life so dramatically, giving him purpose and joy at the expense of pain, tears, and effort. His captain had given him an order and far be it from him to argue. With the knowledge of where the ball was despite not having seen it get caught, he sped up, leaving his friend behind to win back the ball and really start the game.

Due to an unlucky coin toss (disproving the rumor that Hiruma possessed latent telekinetic powers), Deimon began the match on defense. Hiruma wanted that damn ball and he wanted it now.

--+--+-

"Looks like Sena-kun's going in for the tackle!" Sakuraba commented, energy brimming in his voice, excited to see the young running back cut loose and charge at the Nihon's receiver. He purposely ignored the odd (and adoring) looks from the group of people that had been talking about #21 as Oujou was arrived from their own game, filling up the empty seats. Sakuraba had intended to talk to the large group, seeing as they were sitting in Hiruma's block of seats, but then the women in the group let out a super-sonic squeal and all but assaulted him in an attempt to get his autograph.

The tall receiver had wanted to sulk; everyone knew that Hiruma blocked these seats, and everyone knew that if Oujou didn't have a game they would've commandeered said seats to watch their rivals. And instead of just kicking out the interlopers like Takami (and Ootawara- both who were visiting them from university ) had suggested, Sakuraba had convinced him that if they knew Sena-kun, they couldn't be that bad. It was just unfortunate that of the four females in the group, three of them were fans. And only one of the fans was under 30!

Takami smirked at Sakuraba's plight; the boy should really have listened to him. He, on the other hand found a wealth of information in Eyeshield 21's 'little brother' who was more than happy to exchange details of the MVP's private life in exchange for Takami explaining just what was happening during the game. He wasn't positive, but he was almost sure that Shin was listening in as well, at least to add into the explanation of the game.

"What did Sakuraba-san mean about Sena-nii going in for the tackle? Doesn't he just run with the ball?" Tsuna asked.

Takami opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by Shin.

"Because Eyeshield is so fast, he can compensate for his height and low body weight by tackling at full speed. If he does not manage to stop his opponent completely, he is still able to slow them so that a linebacker will be able to complete the attack, or at least put the opponent off balance enough to trip over his own feet." Shin explained methodically, as if he was cataloging Sena's moves for the next time they faced off than explaining to Eyeshield's little brother.

Oujou had moved into the empty seats behind and around Tsuna's group, worn out from their previous game (which they had won), but pumped up to watch their rivals' first match.

Gokudera snorted, "Tripping over his own feet? Idiot."

"Actually it's not that uncommon, look at Sena-sempai's feet as he dodges through the crowd of linebackers." Yamamoto suggested handing over his binoculars.

"…"

"Ahaha, I expected to be farther up in the stands- I guess Sena-senpai really takes care of his family." Yamamoto laughed (unknowingly justifying the reason the group was there) with one arm around Tsuna to emphasize his point, the other still offering Gokudera the binoculars.

Gokudera accepted them gingerly, as if he feared that if he touched them he'd catch Yamamoto's fanboy-ish-ness. Curiosity won out, and he lifted them to check why tripping oneself was an acceptable practice in American football. He watched as Sena ran sideways, zigzagged hazardously, and at one point, stopped completely just to bolt forward in an almost perpendicular path to the one he had been taking.

"How is he even standing upright?" Gokudera asked incredulously, watching the diminutive running back try to snag the ball from #42.

"Hiiiiieeee!" Tsuna cried out in fear, watching his brother get tackled.

"What the hell?" Demanded Gokudera, pissed.

Yamamoto grabbed Gokudera's dynamite just before they touched his lit cigarette. "How come Sena-senpai just got tackled, Takami-senpai? He should have been blocked, but there was no reason to tackle him!"

"To-ler-ate," Lambo whimpered, causing Tsuna looked over at him in surprise. Since when had Lambo even met Sena, let alone grown to like him that much?

Nana laughed and pulled Lambo into her lap. "Sena had always been good with younger kids. That's how they play the game Lambo-chan!"

The five-year-old looked up at her questioningly, eyes watery from suppressed tears.

"See, because the guy who caught the ball after Musashi-san kicked it was trying to block Taki-san on his other side, Eyeshield was able to duck under his arm and get the ball away from him. He would have had it around him and into the end zone if 42's teammate hadn't alerted him," Takami explained, simplifying his words so the group could understand.

"The Nihon Machine Guns have heavy emphasis on intimidation and speed. Intimidation is useless with Hiruma leading and speed is useless with Kobayakawa running," Shin stated.

The group watched him, waiting for an explanation on why the information was relevant.

"Eh… what Shin means is that Sena-kun wasn't injured with the tackle. He has tackled him countless times, and if Sena can stand up and surpass him every time, a team built on speed won't be able to hurt him," Sakuraba explained, sweatdropping at the team captain's complete lack of people skills.

"Monta-kun has gotten faster too; he's broken the five second barrier just by trying to keep up with Sena during practices. We'll need new stats before we play them this year." He muttered to himself and pulled out a camcorder to catch the game.

"Ano… Sakuraba-san, what's the five second barrier?"

Sakuraba looked down at the youngest fangirl with brown hair that was so light, it looked orange and explained.

"Average players can run 10 yards in five seconds. If you can run it in 4.8, you can easily become the ace on your school's track team. It was said that 4.2 was the limit of human speed, the speed of light; but there were reports that Sena-kun hit 4.1 in our match last year in the fall tournament. Either way, he's running at pro-NFL speeds."

"Wow. Do you have a shrine to him in your closet too, trash?"

--+--+-

Sena smiled as Hiruma kicked him on his back wordlessly. They were about 40 yards from the Nihon's end zone, and it was only 16 seconds into the game.

"Huddle up!" The demonic quarterback called. "I'm passing to fucking baldy. Zig out. Fucking three brothers, do a sweep. Fucking shrimp, run like Cerberus is on your heels, or I will set him on you. On the fourth. We will FUCKING KILL THEM!"

"YA-HA!"

The team took their positions and set up for the fake out. Before Kuroki reached the line, he gave Sena a thumbs up, as if Sena was really running the ball and counting on the line to clear him a path.

"Set! Hut! Hut! Hut! Hut!" Kurita snapped the ball and Hiruma faked the hand-off to Sena. The line easily folded to Deimon's power and opened up an avenue to Sena. What they didn't count on; however, was Nihon's #90 waiting on Sena to rush though and smashing the running back.

'Fortunately,' Sena thought, dazed at the impact, 'I don't have to worry about fumbling.'

"Deimon 12 yard gain!" The announcer crowed with delight. The Devil Bats crowded around Yukimitsu, congratulating and kicking him.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Number 90 demanded, staring down at Sena, seemingly just noticing his lack of the football. He loomed over Sena threateningly.

Sena shuddered in fear. This wasn't going to end well.

"Aki. Let's talk."

Sena looked up at his savior. Er… perhaps not. Player #14, the Machine Guns' team captain who had been really upset at the beginning of the game collected his linebacker and walked away in silence.

"Sena? What are you still doing on the ground? EH? Are you hurt?! WAHH!! We need an ambulance!!" Kurita cried throwing Sena over his shoulder and running for the sidelines where Mamori stood wringing her hands in worry.

"Kurita-san, I'm al…" Sena was cut off by a gunshot.

"Fucking porker, put the midget down and get back on the line. You're running the sweep for real this time." Hiruma directed at Sena.

"Yeah," Sena agreed, still a little dazed from the event.

--+--+-

"Did you not see his wristband? The kid has _Vongola_ protection, you idiot!" Aki looked up at his boss sullenly.

"That asshole made a fool of me." He replied petulantly.

"Vongola aren't stupid. They know the rules; tackle him as hard as you want during plays, but for every finger you lay on that brat after the whistle's blown, they will break an according number of bones in retaliation. If you give him so much as an unnecessary nosebleed, we'll all be coughing up blood for a month, dumbass."

Aki crossed his arms in a huff.

Player #14 lifted him up by his throat.

Aki uncrossed his arms.

--+--+-

"Agon-san!" Keisuke, Oujou's running back exclaimed in mock surprise. "Obviously Shinryuuji would be scouting Deimon after your humiliating loss to them last year, but what brings you down to the level of us lowly plebeians?"

"You've got quite a mouth on you for a guy I could break like a twig." Agon replied with a sadistic grin. "Move."

Keisuke's bravado melted like sugar in water and he fled to the back row of seats in Hiruma's block.

"Oi, don't forget to take you litter with you." Agon taunted, pleased, and gave a meaningful glare to the other Oujou in the front row.

The row steadily emptied until only Shin, Sakuraba, Takami, Tsuna, Gokudera, and Yamamoto remained.

Agon tried glaring again. The little one shook a bit, but other than that, no results were forthcoming. "Good enough." He grunted and dropped his bag next to the linebacker. "Unko-chan and Ikkyuu can sit next to me, the rest of you, scatter." He instructed making shooing motions with his hands.

"I am a little surprised you'd bother, Agon-san," Takami offered, leaning around Shin and Sakuraba.

"Didn't you hear? I'm a changed man!" The creepy grin was back. "I even made team captain this year." He glanced back at Takami, "What's with the kids? Ya' babysitting?"

"This is Eyeshield-kun's little brother and his friends. They want to learn about American football," Takami said innocently, nudging Tsuna a little so that Agon could tell who was who.

"That's great." Agon answered with his sweetest, 'how could you imagine me breaking the rules' smile that always worked when he was picking up chicks. "What did I miss?" He asked looking back to the field.

"Eyeshield just scored." Was Shin's blunt answer.

"What! And you didn't bother to tell us?" Sakuraba demanded.

"I thought it would be a little obvious with him dancing." Shin responded guilelessly, pointing a Yamamoto doing a little victory dance, and trying to draw Tsuna into it with him while Gokudera was trying to punch the taller boy.

Sakuraba sweatdropped. It was going to be a long game.

-+--+

"Target player #89. Don't let him go, no matter what. If you die, drag you bloody corpse after him. I don't care, just mark him."

Sena stared at Hiruma incredulously. "But Hiruma-san, shouldn't I mark #34, the fastest according to _your_ data?"

"No. Don't ask questions." Hiruma snapped.

Sena sighed. It was going to be a long game. He reluctantly got into position and sized up his target. While not tall, the receiver still had a good nine inches over him. Sena shook away his childish thoughts. Had Hiruma ever steered him wrong? A memory of the poster with him unknowingly giving a camera the middle finger popped up in his mind, along with countless others. _Er…_

"HIKE!"

Sena ran, sticking to 89 like a second shadow. The other boy watched Sena, shocked. Why would the famous Eyeshield mark him? And how could he keep up so effortlessly?

The whistle blew, and Sena trotted back to the line, looking around. Looked like a three yard Nihon gain. The scenario repeated itself twice more, with Nihon actually losing yards due to Taki's assignment of blitzing the quarterback, before Nihon, with no more downs went to punt the ball away. The kicker came out onto the field and stretched a little, getting ready to get down to work.

"Set! Hut! HUT! HIKE!"

'Wait, was that…?' Sena watched in unmitigated delight as Toganou found an opening and darted though, deflecting the kick and catching it as it arched down. Toganou looked down at the ball in mild curiosity, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it now that he had it.

"Run you fucking idiot!"

The demonic scream snapped him out of his stupor and he bolted to Nihon's end zone.

"Deimon with a shocking touchdown after deflecting the Machine Guns' punt! Incredible! And with the extra kick, it's the Devil Bat's lead at 14-0 with 10 minutes remaining!" The announcer yelled in joy. "Nihon is back on offence." He added, remembering he was supposed to be unbiased. "This was Deimon's #53's first touchdown! Let's hear it for #53, Toganou Shizou!"

The crowd roared it approval, and spurred on by Suzuna and the other cheerleaders, chanted the linebacker's name. "To-ga-nou! To-ga-nou!" His teammates surrounded him and attacked him with congratulations.

Hiruma kicked him silently and then commanded his troops back to positions. "Shrimp; now that you've been covering 89 this whole time, I want you to keep your formation in back field as if you were still marking him, but second play after they receive, I want you to cross with fucking beardy behind the line so they don't notice. They'll pass off to #34 to run with you covering #89, or so they'll think. Tackle their running back and force a fumble."

Sena's jaw dropped at Hiruma entrusting him with the plan instead of forcing the play out of him. "Ye… Yes! I'll try my best!" He declared, determined.

"Don't fucking try, DO!" Hiruma barked.

Musashi's return kick went smoothly, and all too soon it was time for Hiruma's trick play. Sena got into position, eyes on 89 unblinkingly. The receiver was showing signs of nerves with Kanto 's MVP marking him so intently. His hands shook slightly, and Sena finally understood why Hiruma had him mark the receiver so intently; he wouldn't be able to catch at all unless he snapped out of his paranoia, whether or not Sena marked him again. The Machine Guns started the play and Sena was off. Making sure to keep out of sight, he passed Taki quickly.

Ahead, the other running back had cleared the line, and not seeing the idiot marking him all first quarter, assumed he was home free. He sped up as quickly as he could and smirked, sure he'd score the first points for Nihon. He was completely blindsided by Sena. Absolutely shocked he was unable to stop himself from losing the ball to the smaller player.

Sena was sure he had the ball. He saw it and he could feel, it was all but calling to him to take it to end zone, but just as he was sure it was in his hands, all he could feel was pain.

The whistle blew as the officials called a flag on the play.

-x-+--x

"Sena-nii!!" Tsuna was in full out panic mode. He knew the game was rough, but Sena-nii looked like he was in a _lot_ of pain. Around him, the stands were booing and hissing angrily.

"That fucking trash," Agon ground out. He knew that seemed odd coming from him, but if big, bad line backer couldn't keep it in the game, Agon might have to take it off the field entirely.

"What just happened?" asked Yamamoto, shocked at the outcome.

Agon glanced over at the one who had been dancing for Eyeshield's first touchdown. Had he not been paying attention? Oh, the brat with the afro had been blocking his view.

Before anyone could explain, they watched the referee's hands. The man held up his fist above his head and crossed it at the arm with an open hand behind it. "Personal foul, unnecessary roughness.

The crowd erupted with a mixed reaction of cheers that the harshness having been caught and angry boos still directed at the linebacker in question

"Fifteen yard penalty and player #90 will be ejected for the rest of the game," The referee called out, directing the player off the field.

The crowd roared its approval whilst simultaneously wishing for a stronger punishment for hurting their idol.

Meanwhile, Tsuna was moments away from hyperventilating and going into a panic attack.

"That's all well and good, but Sena-nii still hasn't gotten up. Why hasn't Sena-nii gotten up!?"

"Dame-Tsuna." Reborn kicked the back of his head, distracting him from his looming panic attack. "You." He looked directly at Shin. "Explain."

Without turning his head away from the field, Shin spoke.

"It would seem that player #90 had not let go of his anger from the second play and when he thought the officials weren't paying attention, threw a punch at Kobayakawa as he went for the ball. While Kobayakawa was protected by his helmet, it was still a strong blow. I would not be surprised if he were knocked unconscious from it."

* * *

Enjoy, and please review! Now beta'd... Wonderful Shinnie the Meanie helped me out. The hilarious example of just how Hirma leads Sena astray was provided by her (I lol'd) Shinnie's my hero X3

Sorry about the numbers, I hope they weren't too confusing, I just didn't want to bring in (any)too many OCs


	5. Chapter 5

Tsuna didn't register the angry boos and hisses around him. He didn't hear the horrified gasps of Kyoko, Mihae-okaasan and his own mother. All he could think about was the brutal punch that had connected with his big brother with a crack, with the force strong enough to send him flying and even strong enough to knock him out.

Sena was lying face down on the field, his helmet almost a full yard away. Tsuna could see his brother's blood leaking steadily out of the cut on his forehead made from his face guard after his helmet was knocked off at an awkward angle.

"Sena-nii!" He ignored the concerned friends and family around him. He knew Mihae-okaasan would be just as worried, but all he could concentrate was his childhood friend, close enough to address as a brother, was bleeding and broken on the ground. And if he was being overdramatic well, out of all his friends, only Lambo had ever been beaten to the point of unconsciousness.

"Nii-chan!!" He yelled, and concentrated his efforts into trying to climb the low railing between the stands and the field, struggling to do so with his limited athletic ability.

Gokudera didn't know what to do. He'd seen his boss panic when his family got themselves into dangerous situations, but he'd never seen his Juudaime this shaken up. Gokudera himself felt a little shaken. The stoic guy at the end didn't seem to think this was a big deal, the Tenth's brother being knocked unconscious, but no matter how fast he was, he wasn't much bigger than the Tenth himself. In fact, the Tenth's brother could have been considered frail and delicate if it weren't for the slight muscle tone Gokudera had seen on the boy's arms and legs or the way Sena had handled himself on the field before being knocked out.

Kobayakawa Sena had protected him and Juudaime - Gokudera desperately wanted to climb over the railing to check on the older boy himself, but he knew that if he let the Tenth or tried himself, they'd be kicked out in a heartbeat. And although something as trivial as that had never stopped him before; if they were kicked out he'd have to rely on the stupid baseball freak to let them know Kobayakawa's status.

"I think we should wait," Gokudera said as he reached out and grasped his Juudaime's wrist. "If we get kicked out, how will we know if he's alright?" He concluded.

Tsuna stared at his storm guardian, a little incredulous at this being the one time his storm guardian went against him, he went as a voice of reason.

"Maybe I can help…?" Offered a voice before the harsh words resting on Tsuna's tongue could make it past his lips. He turned quickly to see who had addressed him.

-+-+-+-

Suzuna Taki was no stranger to the dangers of American football. She'd been cheering for the Devil Bats almost a full year after all. But watching Sena, kind, little Sena get attacked in a way that has nothing to do with his beloved game made her angry. It wasn't fair that Sena would get injured just for playing the game correctly!

"Nii-chan!"

Suzuna looked up, startled. That's right. It wasn't just her upset with Sena being hurt; his little brother looked pretty torn-up too. She watched Tsuna-kun struggle to jump the fence, and noted with no small alarm the official that was making his way to the boy determinately. 'Sena is hurt. Nothing will change that. But I can prevent Tsuna-kun getting more upset than he already was.'

She took off, skating at her limit, reaching Tsuna minutes before the official. "Maybe I can help…?" She offered breathlessly.

Turning to one of the girls in her squad, she called out, "Keiko-chan, I need your badge." She turned back to the boys as the cheerleader in question unclipped the official-looking badge that had been attached to her skirt.

"I'm Suzuna, if you don't remember; You-nii gave all the cheerleaders sideline badges so we can go talk to Mamo-nee when we need to. Keiko-chan will lend you hers," she offered, taking the pass from the girl in question. "So we can both be there when Sena wakes up"

The crowd cheered loudly and she jumped in surprise. Whipping around, she saw Sena slowly sitting up with Monta's help. Juumonji offered a shoulder and helped Sena limp off the field.

"Come on! Let's go! She thrust the pass into his hands and tried to drag him with her. Feeling her attempt firmly resisted, she looked back curiously.

Gokudera and Yamato both had a hand on Tsuna's shoulder, and were standing, angled in front of him, preventing her from dragging off their boss.

"Not that we don't appreciate this, Suzuna-san, but why would you go through this trouble?" Yamamoto asked with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Just Suzuna," She corrected absently. "I don't know if you noticed, but I have a brother on the field. Natsuhiko Taki, tight end, number 37. I know how painful it can be watching a family member be crushed on the field. But I know my brother will always be alright, because God always protects idiots and drunks!"

The boys glanced at Taki on the field, leg up to his head and twirling, saying something they couldn't quite make out, looking ridiculous although he seemed to be trying to reassure the Devil Bats by breaking the tension. They shuddered a little.

"Sena is tougher than you'd think, just like my idiot brother, but it doesn't stop you from worrying, does it?" She questioned rhetorically.

Yamamoto and Gokudera removed their hands and moved back. The little cheerleader could be trusted.

Nana, however, was not of the same opinion. "Tsuna is really such a small boy; I just don't feel safe letting him run around all those dangerous boys without one of his friends with him."

Yamamoto's hand shot up, volunteering. "I'll go!"

Gokudera flailed a little bit to distract from the baseball freak, determined to be the one to accompany his Juudaime, who was looking rather tense. It was Reborn that spoke up and solved the problem for everyone.

"Yamamoto, go with Tsuna - if that's alright with Suzuna."

Yamamoto briefly broke out into his happy dance, despite the situation. Gokudera discreetly tried to trip him. Suzuna nodded at Reborn.

"Ya! No problem!" She turned back to the cheerleaders, "Akane-chan, I need your badge too!"

-+-+-+-

Yamamoto grinned widely, he knew it seemed callous, but kept smiling. He was the rain guardian, the one who washed away all of his sky's doubts. Keep smiling. Keep smiling. Keep an eye on the opposing team's members that Reborn had said were affiliated with a gang not on good terms with the Vongola.

He slung an arm around Tsuna.

"This is the field Deimon played Oujou last year in the fall tournament, to accommodate the crowds. Usually, the first few games of the spring tournament doesn't bring nearly this many spectators in, but with Deimon being last year's Christmas bowl champions, Amefuto is getting more attention than ever," the cheerleader chatted aimlessly, as if to sooth her worn nerves than to explain to the grinning and solemn middle schoolers.

"Because we're on this field, there are no locker rooms. They'll probably let Sena lie on the bench to rest on the sidelines."

They passed behind the stern looking officials, scuttling nervously, even though they had the proper credentials. Rounding the final corner of the field, Tsuna caught sight of his brother and took off at a dead run.

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto protested and ran after him.

Suzuna took off after the two odd kids.

+-+-+-

"Mamori-nee, I'm alright, I'm just a little fuzzy." Sena tried to struggle out of her grip, while she tried to apply a bandage to his forehead. "I'll be alright to play." He informed her, wiggling like a kitten at bath time.

"Oh no, you don't Sena! You're too weak to play right now!" She argued, resolutely applying the disinfectant.

"Sena-nii!" Was the only warning Sena had before his little brother hugged him tightly.

"Tsuna-kun? What are you doing over here? Your seats are on the other side of the field." For a minute Sena wondered if he'd got hit harder than he'd thought, but brushed that thought away as he felt Tsuna's hug cut off oxygen. "Tsuna-kun, I can't breathe," he joked.

Tsuna dropped his arms like Sena was made of fire. Tsuna looked up and Sena noticed his eyes were watering.

"Hey, hey, I was just kidding! It's ok!" Sena back-pedaled quickly, waving his arms in front of him.

Tsuna started flailing. "I…I was so worried, you were playing one minute, then the next, you were on the ground, a…and that guy said you got hit… and, and…" Tsuna lost his ability to form sentences and Sena reached out and gathered him into a hug to soothe Tsuna's nerves.

"It's ok, Tsu-kun, really! It's okay! I'm not hurt at all." He lied. "It's not a big, deal, I've been hit harder! There are other people way stronger than player #90 and they've tackled me plenty of times- and I've been fine!" _Mostly_, Sena added inwardly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the game, it was a deliberate personal attack! He didn't even tackle you- he punched you Sena, hard enough to send you flying," Mamori angrily argued.

Sena shot her a glare, but before he could say anything, a light was shining in his eyes. "Ow, what the he…!?" Sena was cut off by being pulled down to his trainer's level. He juggled holding on to his little brother and accommodating Doburoku. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Well, your pupils are different sizes, you're acting a little aggressive, so I'd say that's a mild personality change, and you told Mamori you're feeling fuzzy. But, you were only unconscious briefly, so I'd say you only have mild, or type one, concussion," Doburoku diagnosed, letting go of Sena's collar.

"Great, then let me back out there." He demanded.

"No need, fucking shrimp, we're coming to you," Hiruma laughed.

"We called a time-out so we can decide where or not to put Kaito-kun in for you," Yukimitsu explained.

"He has a mild concussion, he'll probably be alright in half an hour or so." Doburoku offered blandly around his sake.

"Traitor," Sena growled.

Everybody looked a little taken aback at Sena's aggression. Sena, for his part, just hugged Tsuna.

"Personality changes included, obviously," the Devil Bats' trainer explained blandly. "He needs to rest. He'll be alright to play by the end of half time.

"Oi…" They all looked over Tsuna's forgotten friend. "Isn't it dangerous to let him sleep if he has a concussion?" Yamamoto asked, worried for his senpai.

"It'll be fine, but if he has problems waking up, we'll take him to the hospital." Mamori clarified, recovered from the shock of a quarrelsome Sena. "It's a common misconception."

"I'm still standing right here," Sena snapped. "And I can play just fine!"

"Kekeke, it's a shame he needs to have a concussion to be the belligerent," Hiruma cackled. "Fucking replacement, stretch out. You get to play this time," He ordered the freshman Sena had been training. "Fucking chibi, take a nap."

"No," Sena responded. "None of you have been listening to me! I can play just fine!"

Hiruma stared down his running back, face to face. "Are you defying my orders? Concussion or not, that's a no."

-+-+-+

Yamamoto Takashi was baffled. Sena-senpai was really grumpy after getting hit. He supposed he would be too, but Tsuna was still gripping onto senpai like he'd disappear if Tsuna let go. His best friend was in the middle of the face-off with the demonic quarter back. While he normally would let situations like these work themselves out; it didn't look like Tsuna would be speaking up anytime soon to calm down his brother.

"Sena-senpai, the Devil Bats won the Christmas Bowl together, they'll be alright with you sitting out for a quarter." Yamamoto grinned. "We'll hang out with you if you'd like, Tsuna knows an awesome game!"

"Sena-nii, why don't you just take a nap? It'll be alright," Tsuna covered for the rain guardian's offer of inducting him into the mafia.

Sena militant demeanor melted like ice in July, and mumbled, "I guess Kaito-kun needs the field experience anyway, Mamori-nee?" He purposely ignored the flinch, "could I get a blanket? I think Tsu-kun and I will take a nap after all." He also ignored the collective sigh of relief and curled up on the bench with his precious little brother.

The team scattered with the situation diffused, except for Hiruma that gave him a rather appraising look before he turned back.

Yamamoto plopped down on the bench with his friend and his brother. He made sure to sit close enough to Tsuna to keep an eye on him, but far enough to keep a respectful distance from his hero.

"Here you go, Sena!" Mamori handed him the blanket with forced cheerfulness.

He took it with a grunt of thanks. Shaking it out, he carefully wrapped it around him and his brother leaning on his left shoulder, seeking comfort in the contact. He glanced at Yamamoto, who was studiously watching the remaining play, afraid that if he watched Sena he'd be too obvious in his yearning to join them in their nap time.

"What are you doing over there?" He asked, with a confused sort of smile. "It's kind of chilly with the wind picking up." He reached over and pulled him into the blanket with them.

Yamamoto was a little embarrassed to be sharing a blanket with a senpai, and a little embarrassed that the blanket was small enough that they all were cuddling together; but overall pleased with Sena for not being a prima-donna high school foot ball ace. He hated the types that wouldn't let the team play without them and dragged down the moral to the point that they couldn't play without them.

"Sorry, I was so grumpy," The footballer offered, unknowingly confirming his thoughts. "But just for now, let's take a nap." He finished and drifted off, unable to keep his eyes open anymore.

Yamamoto thought that was a very good idea, and leaned his head down to rest on his small senpai's shoulder, following him into dreamland.

+-+-+-+-x

Monta panted harshly; without his best friend of the field with them, it was really hard to score. The only points came from the extra yardage earned with Sena's blood. He knew that half of his concentration was on the running back on the bench, and he suspected that most of the team's was a well. After Kaito-kun came out, debuting his running back training, he had all but fallen apart with the pressure. Monta and Yukimitsu were the only ones making any headway in the offence, and the upperclassman was getting worn out quickly. It didn't help Hiruma was getting really pissed off.

It was finally half time, and they had 20 minutes to rest. Fortunately, at the end of half time, Sena should be able to play again. The whistle blew and both teams trudged off the field. Monta, on the other hand, bounded off, excited to check and see if his friend's personality had readjusted. He paused at the edge of the field.

On the bench, which had been moved up against a tree in order for the players to rest under the shade, was Sena, curled up with two middle schoolers, with a fluffy blanket wrapped around the three of them.

Monta is a manly man. He had a crush on Mamori and played American football which was not, _not_ a sport for pansies. But he'd be damned if that weren't the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Anyone, guy or girl, could walk by and fall over themselves with how cute the trio were together, with Sena in the middle and the two younger kids curled up around him.

He heard snap behind him, and caught the quarterback tuck away a camera… somewhere. He looked over, and saw Mamori taking pictures on her cell phone, one hand pressed up against her mouth to stop her giggles. And he couldn't be sure, but he suspected that news crew had caught a little film of it, at least. He didn't doubt the only reason Suzuna and the other cheerleaders weren't all over this Kodak moment was because they were doing the half time cheerleading show.

He motioned to Taki silently and edged back onto the field. "Sena still has a minimum of ten minutes before he has to wake-up. Practice with me so I'm not tempted to wake him up. Who knows, maybe then he'll recover MAX!" Taki laughed and declared he'd throw at 150 and both were promptly hushed by Mamori.

Despite his big words, both Monta and Taki watched the scoreboard countdown closely, and halfway though halftime rushed back to the sidelines. The team gathered around the sleeping trio, all wishing he'd wake up, but at the same time, afraid he'd not wake up or would wake up still aggressive.

Finally, Musashi snorted. "This is stupid."

He reached out and poked Sena. "Hey, you need to warm up if you want to play in the second half."

"Nnn?" Sena mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "How long have I been out?" He questioned sleepily. The team let out a collective sigh of relief. It seemed like Sena was back to his usual self.

"For the rest of first, all of second, and half of half time," Musashi answered.

"Aa. Sorry about being so waspish earlier." He apologized to the team, looking rather mortified with himself.

"Just pay us back by putting an end to this ridiculous first half." Toganou replied irritably.

"Ridiculous? How so?" Sena questioned, suddenly more awake than ever.

"Its 17-24. Your replacement was useless." Hiruma growled.

"Punishment game! 24/7 practice!" He directed at the miserable first year, who was looking even more miserable by the moment before he turned back to Sena. "Now get out there and warm-up!"

Sena looked down at the boys on his shoulders, not wanting to disturb them.

"Don't worry about it Sena-senpai!" Gokudera assured. "Oi, Baseball freak, what the hell's your problem, falling asleep and ignoring Juudaime's protection like that!!" He demanded angrily, aiming a kick at the swordsman.

Yamamoto _coincidently_ chose that moment to lean forward and stretch. "Oh, did I miss some of the game?"

Gokudera snarled.

"O-Officials!?" Komusubi asked.

"He wanted to know how you got around the officials, seeing as security has been raised after player #90's disgraceful attack on Sena-kun." Translated Kurita, when he saw how the irritation melted into confusion.

"When did you get here Gokudera-kun?" Broke in a sleepy Tsuna, rubbing his eyes in the same manner Sena had done so earlier.

"Idiot! You woke him up!" Gokudera berated.

Yamamoto laughed. "Tsuna, Sena-senpai needs to get up if he wants to play in the second half."

Tsuna sighed. "I guess. Are you going to be alright?" He questioned anxiously.

"You can just stay on the bench, if you you're still worried," offered Sena.

"I think we'll do that." Yamamoto said, leaving neither Gokudera nor Tsuna the option of going back to the stands. "It's gonna be awesome!" He grinned wrapping his arms around Tsuna and Gokudera's shoulders; ignoring the clicking of cameras and Gokudera's angry shouts.

Sena grinned back and trotted back out to the field; ready to play his favorite game.

--

Thank you for reading and please review! All concussions symptoms should be somewhat accurate, I really did research them. Everyone say thank you to the amazing, wonderful, and talented Shinnie the Meanie for helping me change this from the annoying pile of whiney angst it was at the beginning of the week to this (how can I say this?) better(?) chapter. Seriously, Shinnie rocks my world! Check out her stuff at /u/679215/ . Again, thanks and please review! Check out the poll on my Author's page too, please!!


	6. Chapter 6

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Dedicated to Shinnie the Meanie.

* * *

Even with Yamamoto and Gokudera flanking him, Tsuna couldn't help but be a bit nervous. He was glad his brother didn't banish him back to the bleachers, but Tsuna couldn't help but be a little nervous being so close to such a violent game. So it was _completely _understandable that he'd jump a foot in the air when a woman appeared out of nowhere and stuck a microphone in his face.

"Are you a friend of Kobayakawa-kun? How long have you known him? How long have you known that he's Eyeshield 21? What's your name? What's his favorite food? Does he have a girlfriend?"

Tsuna's head spun at the barrage of question. "Wait, what?"

"HEY! Leave the Tenth alone, stupid woman!" Gokudera demanded, shoving the microphone away.

"Maa, maa, Gokudera-kun, she's just doing her job." He looked at her expectantly.

"Y-yes! I'm star reporter, Andou Baako for channel 8.2! I interview all the up and coming American football high school stars!" She declared, ignoring the fact she'd had the opportunity to interview neither Sakuraba nor Sena. She needed to pump up her resume, especially with that rather intense look she was getting from the kid's group of friends. "You and the other boy were resting with Kobayakawa-kun earlier, may I ask your names and how you know him?"

"I'm Yamamoto Takashi, the sourpuss is Gokudera Hayato, and Sena-senpai's little brother is Sawada Tsunayoshi." Yamamoto introduced, seeing as Gokudera was sulking and Tsuna didn't seem to be able to wrap his mind around the odd reporter.

"Sena-nii? A star?" Tsuna repeated, not quite connecting the disparate ideas.

Baako squealed in delight. She (her cameraman) knew getting footage of Eyeshield's naptime would be a good idea, now they had an inside track to interview the illusive Kobayakawa-kun! "You're his little brother?! That's so cute! Do you go to all of his games? Do people bother you for big brother's autograph?" She demanded.

"We aren't really related," Tsuna explained, a little embarrassed, "he was just the one I spent the most time with in childhood. I hadn't seen him in years, until yesterday."

Baako's eyes got watery in simultaneous sadness and delight. "You… and… your long lost brother? How tragic! How heartrending! And now when destiny crosses your paths again, one is a star! This is great! This'll teach Hiro-kun that I am too a real journalist!"

"Woman, I thought I told you to go away already." Gokudera growled out warningly. He wasn't amused with the prospect of his Tenth being exploited for the sake of this idiotic reporter's career or ego.

"I-I wanted to know if you all thought that Deimon could turn the game around for a comeback win," she extemporized, reminding herself that _real_ reporters aren't intimidated by middle schoolers.

"Of course they will!" Gokudera cut into the question directed at Tsuna. "It's obvious that the lack of scoring during the second quarter was in part due to the distraction of an injured teammate rather than on a reflection of player skills. The fact that they managed to score at all argues for the overall ability and athleticism of the team. Now that Sena-senpai is back on the field, the probability of scoring has gone up by at least 82%. I'd go so far as to say that with everyone on the team at optimum health and no psychological issues, the Deimon Devil Bats are invincible in this division."

Tsuna's jaw dropped at the return of Professor Gokudera. He kept forgetting that the fiercely loyal bomber was a certifiable genius.

"Haha, now you sound like an Eyeshield fan, Gokudera!" Yamamoto laughed and attempted to sling an arm around Gokudera's shoulder.

"Shut the hell up!" Gokudera demanded. "I'm not a sports freak like you!" He tried to bat the arm away, leading to an all-but-brawl on the sidelines as Yamamoto started talking about fan clubs and Gokudera tried to keep the other boy out of his personal bubble and act disinterested in Yamamoto's suggestions. If only to make sure that they weren't a threat to the Tenth's brother, of course.

Baako watched them for a while, then turned back to Tsuna with determination burning in her eyes. "What about you? Are you an Eyeshield fan?" She asked, sticking the microphone back into the unfortunate boy's face.

"Uh-Uhmm… I guess…" He clutched the hem of his shirt tightly and tilted his head down. "Sena-nii is really amazing…" Gathering steam, he looked up, "Sena-nii has always been very kind and really fun. Even if he weren't playing American football, I'd still be really proud to have his as my big brother." He finished, almost defiantly, silently daring the reporter to put down his brother or his feelings.

"That's so _adorable_!" She squealed.

"Hey! You! I thought I told you, no interviews during the game!"

"Eek! Well, I have some… sound mixing… to work on. I'll see you later, Kobayakawa-kun's friends!" Baako called, scampering away from the scary officials that were the bane of her reporting career. It wasn't fair. She hadn't even gotten a scoop about Kobayakawa-kun's love life yet!

-x-x-x-

"You're going to have to make up for your fucking kiddy naptime, fucking shrimp!" Hiruma growled in the huddle.

Sena nodded, his face set in a mask of determination. He knew his injury dragged down the whole team, and he felt the need to prove he wasn't just a dead weight ace.

"They won't expect us to run you right away, seeing as you just got off the bench; but since you had the second half of half time to warm up, you'll be running the ball the next fifteen plays no matter what." Hiruma commanded.

"Th-that's too much!" Yukimitsu jaw dropped and he began to protest. "Sena-kun won't be able to keep up with that pace, and even if he does, think of the strain on his knees!"

"Thanks for worrying, Yukimitsu-san, but I'm well rested." Sena smiled. "I will run every play and… I guess… I might… be… able to… s-sc-score… at least… once, I mean… I guess…"

"He lost confidence again," Toganou noted.

"He was really close that time," Kuroki agreed.

"We will fucking kill them!" Hiruma cut in, ignoring the typical commentary from the peanut gallery that came up every time Sena said something that was confident to begin with, only to regress back into his typical nervous and shy nature almost immediately afterwards. They had a game to win after all.

"YA-HA!" The team shouted back in response and scattered to their respective positions, cutting the discussion short and forcing them into Hiruma's play.

-x—x—x-

"Oh, look. They're running it again," Agon said with slight disinterest. Really, after the running back got knocked out, the game just got more and more boring.

"Hiruma's trying to make Nihon think Eyeshield-kun is unbeatable, and keep them guessing when it comes to the next pass," Takami summarized.

"Hey, didn't you have a bench full of kids next to you a while ago?" Agon questioned, finally finding something to interest him, if only momentarily.

"Tsuna-kun and his friends left before half-time, you really didn't notice?" Sakuraba asked, incredulous.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember yelling at one of them for blocking my view. Why are the other ones still here?"

"It seems we've been forgotten, TO THE EXTREME!" Ryohei thundered.

-x-*-x-

Sena wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his arm. He'd been running all of third quarter, but at least it had paid off. With Nihon underestimating Deimon so thoroughly, the score had risen to 31-24 in Deimon's favor. And it didn't look like Hiruma-san would be slowing down anytime soon. With Kurita-san's line shutting down the opposing offence, Hiruma seemed determined to drive up the score as high as possible. Probably just to freak out the other teams. Sena smiled tightly; once again he thanked whoever was watching out for him that he was on Hiruma's side.

"Alright, fucking Shorty, take a break," Hiruma ordered with a kick to the back. "Fucking monkey, you'll be scoring in two passes or you'll be jogging with the fucking midget and Cerberus in the afternoons."

"Y-Yes! Touchdown, MAX!" Declared Monta.

The team jogged back into position, with Yukimitsu glancing back at Sena, his eyes telling him he was in no way fooled by his nonchalant exterior. Yukimitsu knew Sena was perfectly capable of hiding pain more than the rest of the team suspected. Still, it was his and Monta's turn to take the stress off of Sena-kun. They'll just have to win quickly so Sena can get his knees taped and iced.

Hiruma called for the snap, and the fourth quarter was underway. Fifteen more minutes until Sena could get his knees wrapped.

Monta scored his touchdown, 38-24 Deimon. Twelve more minutes until the second year could get medical attention. Already his breathing seemed more labored than it should have been.

Onside kick that Monta caught. Three more plays, then a risky move to try for the touchdown, even though it was fourth down. This time, it was his turn to score. 45-24 Deimon. Eight minutes until Sena could rest.

Failed onside kick, it bounced too far away from Monta. Two downs later Juumonji crushed the receiver and forced a fumble. Yukimitsu was glad he wasn't the only one that saw Sena wearing down and wanted to end this quickly. Three downs after that Taki ran it to the ten, but they couldn't manage to score again. It was Musashi's turn to shine again. He'd been so dependable this game. Hadn't missed a kick. 48-24 Deimon. Five more minutes before Sena could get iced down and go hang out with his little brother. Preferably somewhere he could sit and rest a while.

Another beautiful, arching, _long_ kick by Musashi. Hiruma seemed a little irritated though. It looks like Yukimitsu had another ally in eating up time to end the game. One down later Sena sacked the quarterback. Sena _sacked_ the quarterback. _Sena_ sacked the quarterback. Oh, it'd been a beautiful play. Kurita blue sky'd his player and Sena had a straight path to the defenseless #14. But didn't that boy _understand_?! They were working extra hard so he wouldn't tax himself! He was doubly injured!

"Yukimitsu-san."

Speak of the devil.

"I know what you're trying to do."

Really? It didn't look that way to him.

"And I really appreciate it."

_Then let us finish this game without you getting hurt anymore!_

"But American football is what I want to do! It's my passion; it's an integral part of my life! Please, even if I'm dripping with blood and sweat and can barely stand, please don't try to take this away from me."

Yukimitsu looked down at the boy, taking in his battered form, his chest heaving, trying desperately to take in enough oxygen to keep up with his mind's demands. He took in the fire in his eyes.

_Four minutes and twenty-nine seconds until we have to stop playing our favorite game._

x-x-x-x~X

American football is a game where every last second counts. Hiruma Youichi knew this better than most. He knew that he could win a football game in eight seconds, and he knew that it could be taken away from him in one. But as long as the other team doesn't realize this, the path to victory is clear. It doesn't take much to destroy the moral and clear thinking of the opposing team. All one must do is the impossible.

It's impossible for a cram-school honor student to be anything but a bench warmer. Yukimitsu was his secret weapon.

It's impossible for the line to do anything but block. Both Juumonji and Toganou have scored touchdowns.

It's impossible for Sena to keep running in the second half after his injuries. Sena will be scoring the last points.

--x—X—x—

"Fucking shorty. You'll be flying to the end zone."

"Bu-but Hiruma! We-we're already in the lead… and well, Sena-kun…"

"You're all starting to sound like the fucking manager!" Hiruma raged, cutting off Kurita entirely. "If fucking shorty doesn't need another fucking mother! Just let him play the game."

"This'll be fun," Sena smiled, rolling his shoulders to loosen up the tight muscles. "I haven't been able to dive yet this year."

The team looked at him in disbelief.

"What? It's painful, but it's exhilarating."

"Does Sena have another doppelganger? Is there a clone machine going haywire somewhere?" Monta questioned, more to put the idea out there than to ridicule his friend.

"Monta! I'm serious!" Sena pouted.

"Oh, I get it!" The ace receiver pounded a closed fist into a flat palm. "You want to show off to your brother!"

"Ah… Well… That is…" Sena looked down and rubbed the back of his head.

"Busted!" The 'huh-huh' brothers chorused in amusement.

"Well, as long as Sena-kun's alright with it." Kurita's smile was still a little wavering, but the antics of his teammates really helped reassure him.

"Alright, if we're done playing 'insubordination', I'd suggest getting into your positions. Hiruma loomed over the team, his face cast in shadows, and holding a rather oversized firearm over a shoulder.

The team collectively 'Eeep'd' and scattered, until only Hiruma and Sena were left.

"I understand, Hiruma-san." Sena offered with a gentle smile, before heading off to his position.

"If you're not careful, the team will forget just who's supposed to be the master manipulator." He shot back blandly. Inwardly, Hiruma chuckled to himself. Sometimes that fucking midget really surprised him. Like at the first Oujou game, when he set Cerberus on him, only to find him changed and ready to play. He was a good kid, really.

Hiruma had no doubts Sena knew why he kept running up the score; the boy was a better strategist than anyone gave him credit for, including himself. Hiruma wanted to put the fear of God -- that is, the Devil, into the teams. The higher the score that they crushed the opposing team, the more it will seem like the Christmas Bowl victory wasn't a fluke, to an outsider looking in.

This victory would insure that he'd be able to pick and chose his games, something he'd never been able to do before as a team captain. It would also ensure that the other teams would be taking them seriously, and paradoxically, underestimating them. If Kakei or Akaba were sure they were the same team as last year, they'd be able to spring the highly trained first years on them, and shock them out of points. That is, if they don't all fall apart like that fucking replacement. Hiruma growled in irritation as he moved into place for the snap. He'd just have to train them more. He'd been getting soft.

)(---X--)(

"Sena-nii… he's flying." Tsuna commented, breathlessly, watching the amazing, beautiful, impossible arch of Sena-nii's body as it flew over the melee below.

"The Devil Bat Dive," Yamamoto continued, equally as awestruck.

Beside him, Gokudera was frozen, one had shielded around his lighter, the other set to flick the striker to light the cigarette now dangling forgotten from his lips.

Time seemed to slow as the trio of middle schoolers watched their friend/brother figure/hero clear the battling line with a devastatingly beautiful jump, but sped back up with the brutal contact with the unforgiving ground.

Surprisingly, Tsuna began to cheer. Yamamoto and Gokudera looked over at their shorter friend, surprised.

"Did you see that?! Did you see Sena-nii?! Isn't he incredible!?" He grinned. "Come on! The game's over, they're letting us out on the field!"

Just as Tsuna was taking his first step onto the field, and Yamamoto and Gokudera were reaching out to grab him back, Sena bolted from the crowd.

"Wah?" Was all that Tsuna managed before his brother grabbed his hand and Gokudera's wrist, not slowing down in the slightest. Tsuna, thoughtful boy that he is, grabbed Yamamoto along for the ride. "Sena-nii? Wha-"He was cut off again, trying desperately to breathe. His lack of athleticism was shining through as he tried to keep pace with his brother. If it weren't for Sena's hand holding his, he would've fallen back ages ago.

"We have to get to the Devil Bat truck quickly!" Sena urged, looking back slightly.

"Sena-senpai, what's going on?" Gokudera asked, keeping pace. 'Senpai must be running slower so we can keep up.' He thought absently, looking down at the grip on his wrist.

Sena's eyes grew dark; his face, grave. With the solemnity of a condemned man walking to the gallows, he hissed out one word: "_Paparazzi!_"

As if saying the name summoned the demon, the reporters seemed to notice simultaneously that the ace running back was nowhere in sight. Heads lifting and swiveling like a colony of meerkats alerted to danger, they quickly pinpointed the boy who'd been desperately trying to avoid them. "Sena-kun! Sena-kun! One quick question! Sena-kun, what do you think of the nuclear proliferation of Timbuktu? What do you think of Avril Lavigne going out with Zac Efron?!" Came the innate calls of the urban herd, completely ignoring the fact that Sena wouldn't have a clue about US celebrities or political matters.

Tsuna sweated a little… _'How could Sena-nii have an opinion about the first one, and why would he care about the second?_'

"Quickly, into the truck!" Sena urged, letting go to of the boys, and helped them up.

"Why are we getting into the back of a semi-truck?" Yamamoto asked.

"No time!" Sena argued and pulled himself up. Looking back, he saw his teammates wading through the crowds of people, sometimes stopping to answer a question or two. _'It must be nice,'_ he sulked to himself, '_to get questions about football rather than U.S. celebrity gossip.'_

Monta, using Taki's egotism as a distraction, climbed up next to him. "You got your brother?" He asked, perching at the edge of the trailer, dangling his legs.

"Yeah, I wish everyone'd hurry a little though, I don't want to lock them out, but I'd like to change." Sena replied and checked over his shoulder to make sure the boy in question and his friends were doing alright.

He found them gaping in shock at the huge truck that double as a locker room, just in case situations like this occurred. Sena knew he was lucky, the other team not only got crushed 57-24, they had to change in the bathroom of the nearby park.

"Speak of the Devil," Monta murmured loud enough for Sena to hear, though not without humor, at Hiruma's arrival. "Sena needs to change so he can hang out with his brother, do you think you can get everyone out of the clutches of reporters for a minute?" He asked.

Hiruma looked at Monta measuring, and then whistled sharply. The noise level dropped considerably. "Devil Bats, to the truck. We'll be answering _some_ questions after we change." He informed the crowd.

Sena beamed down at him. "Thanks, Hiruma-san!"

The team piled in the truck and began changing. As Hiruma pulled the doors shut, Sena appeared next to him. "Hiruma-san, I need to find a way to avoid them. Usually I don't mind answering the questions, but Tsu-kun got separated from his friends and we have to go meet up with them."

Then, something odd happened. Hiruma bent over slightly, his arms folded over his stomach. His shoulders started trembling, and he unfolded one arm to cover his face.

"Hiruma-san?!" Sena questioned, the beginnings of panic swirling up.

"KEKEKEKE!" Hiruma burst out laughing. "Oh, this is just too perfect. I couldn't plan it any better myself! Fucking doppelganger, get over here!"

"Hiiie!" Tsuna squeaked, a little unnerved to have been summoned by the scary team captain that unnervingly reminded him of Reborn. He hastily obeyed the order, quickly appearing at his brother's side. The blond demon Started rummaging through a stack of cardboard boxes near his locker.

"Here, hand these out. Just call the number, and they'll come get them." Hiruma instructed, shoving a stack of cloth into his hands.

"Al-alright." Tsuna hesitantly agreed. Inwardly, he bemoaned his fate and wondered if Hiruma was just too lazy to hand them out himself. "Nu-Number 80?" he questioned, more than called out.

"That's me," Monta called out, trying to make it over to Tsuna while pulling a shirt over his head and tripping over Gokudera. Monta reached out and asked, "Hiruma-san? What are these?"

"I ordered new warm-ups, only the jackets have come in so far." Came the muffled answer, as he continued digging thought the boxes.

"Thanks, Tsuna!" Monta chirped, grabbed the top jacket, and pulled it on over his shirt.

Tsuna took a moment to study the hooded jacket, the predominate colors were red, white, and black resembled it the Deimon 'away' jerseys. They had the Devil bat logo on the upper left chest, and the player number on the right sleeve and again, but much larger, on the back.

"Number 51!" Yamamoto grabbed the next one, helping Tsuna out.

"Yeah," Juumonji grunted, and raised his arm, indicating Yamamoto should just throw it over.

Yamamoto's eyes gleamed. His arm reared back, preparing to throw.

"Hiiiiie!" Tsuna yelped and grabbed it from his grip, just as Yamamoto was about to throw. "Go-Gokudera, could you hand this over to Juumonji-san?" Tsuna asked, shaken at the near miss.

"Alright, Tenth." Gokudera smirked smugly at Yamamoto's help being rejected.

"Why do you call him 'Tenth', Gokudera-kun? Komusubi-kun, I have your jacket here." Sena questioned absently.

Tsuna and Gokudera froze. '_Oh shi—_'

"I'm the tenth person Gokudera met in Japan!" Tsuna lied hastily. The less Sena knew about the mafia, the better.

"Oh, where are you from originally, Gokudera-kun? 30? We don't have a number 30, do we?" Sena murmured, still distracted.

"Ah, Sena-kun, I'm number 30." Ishimaru raised his hand from beside him and Sena jumped back.

"We need to bell him or something." Hiruma cackled.

"I'm so sorry Ishimaru-san!" Sena's face burned from the intensity of his blush. "So, so sorry!" He bowed, embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, Sena-kun," he smiled, good naturedly. "When are you going to take up track, though?" He joked before recoiling at Hiruma's evil grin.

"I don't share." Hiruma grinned with all his teeth, and grabbed the collar of Sena's jersey. "You wanted a way to sneak out, right?" He leaned over slightly, looking down at Sena while Sena tilted his head back to look at Hiruma hovering over him.

"Yeah…" _'But now I'm scared of your plans.'_ Sena finished to himself.

"You and your fucking kiddy friends finish handing those out, and I tell you how." He grinned.

"Alright." Sena agreed and edged away from the slightly maniacal quarterback. "Kuroki-kun, I have your jacket, Musashi-san, Yamamoto-kun has yours, and Toganou-kun, Tsu-kun has yours."

In a rather short amount of time, the jackets had been handed out, (mostly by Tsuna, Yamamoto, and Gokudera so Sena could change,) with one noticeable jacket missing.

"Hiruma-kun, do I not get one?" Sena's face fell slightly.

Grinning, Hiruma held up two identical '21' jackets and Devil Bat's ball caps. "You wanted a way to sneak away right? The best way to hide is in plain sight. Get your fucking brother to wear this, both of you pull the hood over the caps, and split up. The fucking reporters won't know who to follow!" He crowed in delight with another outside-of-the-game trick play.

"Ah! But then Tsu-kun will get mobbed!" Sena protested, concerned.

"If I'm not incorrect," Hiruma began, focusing his attention on Yamamoto and Gokudera and his words on Sena. "He has more than a few people to watch out for him."

Sena looked back and forth between Tsuna and Hiruma with an almost visible question mark over his head.

"Tsu-kun?"

"I'll do it!" Tsuna blurted out quickly, his arms tucked in closely to his chest, his eyes screwed tightly shut. He just needed to stop the team captain from blurting out his secrets, and reminding Sena-nii they'd been evading his questions. He'd agree to playing on the line, if it'd shut him up!

"Gokudera and Yamamoto will be with me! I'll be fine! Please let me, Sena-nii!"

"Al-alright, if Tsu-kun wants to…" Sena agreed hesitantly, not really wanting to let Tsuna get hounded, but not wanting to prevent him from doing something he wanted.

"Fucking baseball-idiot, you go with fucking shorty and fucking fish-lips. Oldest 'ha-ha' brother and fucking octopus head go with the fucking doppelganger."

"Hey, why do I have to get involved?!" Kuroki whined.

Hiruma leveled his rifle at him.

"You ready, Sena?" Kuroki asked immediately.

"Where are we going to meet up?" Juumonji asked.

Sena and Tsuna looked at each other.

"I think my house is the closest, and then we'll be able to shower, if you want to bring a change of clothes," he directed the last part to his teammates.

"Sena-senpai's house?" Yamamoto's grin grew.

"Do you know how to get there from here?" Sena asked.

"Yeah," Tsuna replied, "I could find your house from anywhere in the city by now." He laughed.

"Alright then, fucking shorty, doppelganger, put those hats and coats on. Everyone decent? Good." Hiruma threw open the doors to the blinding paparazzi flashes, "Fucking shorty's house in fifteen minutes, BREAK!"

The team scattered.

* * *

Sorry about the long wait, but this came out to 4,363 words, does that make up for it? The poll's still open in my profile, so go vote on how long you want this. This chapter specifically was dedicated to Shinnie the Meanie, my amazing beta, for putting up with my insecurites and panic attacks. Also for her awesome ideas when I write myself into corners and for getting this back to me before I had to go to work, so I don't refresh my inbox every two minutes waiting and angsting for reviews, lol. Finally, due to Shinnie's determination and persuasion (she's a force of nature!), this story now has a set pairing, and I'll start hinting at it. Any guesses? =3. I should have more time to write now, with the Thanksgiving holiday coming up. Sorry again for how long this took.

I hope you enjoyed, and please review~!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I've been meaning to mention this for quite a while now, but I keep forgetting, so here we go. Timeline: Eyeshield 21: post Christmas Bowl, (Deimon victory,) officially AU now; considering the current story arc. Katekyo Hitman Reborn: post Ring arc, pre-Ten Year Later arc, ('Cuz I really don't know where that's going.)

I own neither ES21 nor KHR!

Thank you to my original beta, Shinnie the Meanie, who has started helping me with chapter nine already

And also to my new Beta, Mithras151. Without Mithras acting as a demon editor, I might still be messing around with my outline rather than having a whole chapter ready for you all.

--

Aki sulked in the public restroom-turned-changing room, waiting on his Nihon teammates. Seeing as the stadium boasted no changing rooms, the Machine Guns commandeered the local park's restroom. Not quite as glamorous as owning a whole semi-truck, but it worked. As he waited, he lit up a cigarette and slouched against the back wall.

He was still a little pissed that the fucking Vongola brat got his ass kicked out of the God-damned game, but the nicotine fix wasn't to calm him down from that. It was to sooth the nerves he was feeling knowing that his boss would be walking in any moment. If he was lucky, he'd just get his ass kicked.

The door slammed open and Aki jumped ever-so-slightly. Not that he'd ever admit it. Fortunately, it was only that little receiver, what-his-name, number 89.

"How'd it go out there?" Aki deigned to ask.

What's-his-name turned around to look his upperclassmen in the eye. Aki wasn't one to jump at shadows, but the fire in his teammate's glare before he averted his eyes clearly blamed his senpai.

"We did alright after you punched that kid. But after he got back up, we got murdered."

Had Aki been less of a man, he'd shuddered at #89's word choice.

"By the way, there's some blond kid waiting for you outside. I think he was the quarterback."

This time, Aki couldn't force himself to repress the tremor. Kid was fuckin' creepy, playing at the devil all the time.

With hands that were _in no way_ trembling, Aki retrieved and lit a fresh cigarette. After #89 finished talking he changed silently. As Aki breathed in lungful after poisonous lungful of his nicotine addiction, he calmed down to the point that he could think more clearly. Number 89 had always been an asshole. He was probably just messing with him.

"Hey, Aki-kun! There's this weird kid with dreads waiting for you outside!" That one kid, #42 yelled, as he walked in.

Aki dropped his cigarette. Casually, he moved his foot to crush it out, as if that had been his intention the whole time. As he moved to salvage his dignity, he took the time to look over #42; the dumbass who lost the ball at the start of the game. Yeah, that bastard had a sick, sadistic gleam in his eye. He was probably working with #89 to fuck with him.

"Whatever," he growled and looking away, as if he'd lost interest in #42's continued existence.

Finally, #34, that running back kid who fucked up the first scoring drive meandered in with most of the rest of the team. With one noticeable exception.

"Where's the boss?" Aki questioned.

#34's eyes were alight with unholy glee. "I don't know, Aki-san. But there is that one kid from Oujou, you know, the one what was Tokyo's MVP last year? The one with the trident tackle? Yeah, he's waiting for you too!"

"Tch, what the fuck ever. I'm waiting for the boss." The lineman hissed.

Slowly, the makeshift locker room cleared out until it was just Aki and his cigarettes again. He checked his watch again. When he looked up, he saw three distinct silhouettes in the door way. '_Well, shit.'_ He slowly dropped his cigarette and crushed it out. He carefully shrugged his shoulders, and menacingly cracked his knuckles. _'Looks like the boss won't have to get his hands dirty.'_ He snorted sardonically.

-/-/-/-

"Sena-senpai lives here?" Gokudera asked.

Tsuna gave him a curious look, "Yeah, since before I was born, I think. Why?"

"It's a pretty big house, for Japan," Gokudera grunted and reached for the gate; only to pull back in surprise when it opened from the inside.

"Sawada. You're EXTREMELY late!! You and your friends are the last ones here!" Ryohei thundered.

"Eheh, we kinda got a little lost when the paparazzi were chasing us; if we didn't have Juumonji-senpai with us…" Tsuna trailed off. "Wait! Onii-san!? How did you get here?!"

Ryohei frowned a little, "Well, after you forgot about us, Mihae-san was kind enough to invite us over. She said that Sena-senpai would want us to hang out with him after the game." He turned around and led them inside.

"Sena-senpai is really EXTREME! He beat us here with his FIGHTING SPIRIT even though we took the train! It was really cool, but your friend Yamamoto and the other lineman suffered for it, Sawada," Ryohei reached down and exchanged his shoes. "He and Sena-senpai's friend have been napping this whole time. Well, I guess Sena-senpai's friend woke up a bit ago, but it sounds like they've done some harsh training, to the EXTREME!"

"You should have seen it!" Kuroki grumbled from the couch, "It looked like he was dragging two corpses behind him."

While he sounded upset, his eyes were dancing with glee.

'_Probably with all the teasing opportunities this opened up,_' Tsuna reflected.

"Um, where is Sena-nii?" Tsuna asked after a quick scan of the living room yielded no older brothers.

"He's up checking on your friend, he was MAX exhausted and passed out when we got here." Monta chirped from the other end of the couch.

"Up where?" Juumonji asked curiously.

"Up in Sena-kun's room, of course, Kazu. Where else would both he and that baseball kid be?" Toganou said with a hint of a smirk. "Oi, why don't you go fetch him, so that we can find out the game plan, so to speak."

"What am I? Your messenger boy!?" Juumonji raged.

"Umm… I'm going up to check on Yamamoto and talk to Sena-nii anyway…?" Tsuna trailed off, leaving the offer open to interpretation.

"Psh… whatever, I'm going." Juumonji growled and brushed past the younger boy.

Tsuna scurried after the taller lineman, taking the stairs two at time to catch up. Fortunately, they got to the top around the same time, so Tsuna could point with a meek, "This way," To Sena-nii's room.

Juumonji strode to the door and reached for the handle.

"Wait!" Tsuna protested. "Aren't you even going to knock? It's Sena-nii's bedroom!" He puffed out his cheeks indignantly.

"Why? It's not like they're doing anything private in there," which, to Tsuna's untrained ear, sounded suspiciously like 'they better not be doing anything private in there.'

"But Yamamoto might still be sleeping!" Tsuna insisted.

"All the more reason not to knock," Juumonji argued, and twisted the knob.

"Sena-nii, we're coming in!" Tsuna yelled through the door, despite the rather scary aura coming from the lineman.

The blond took three steps into the room and stopped dead. Tsuna, curious boy that he was, leaned around the much taller high schooler and looked for the hold-up.

The sight that greeted him was a rather odd one. Sena-nii sat on the edge of his bed and leaned over a sleeping Yamamoto; seemingly caressing his face.

Tsuna could practically feel the older boy next to him tense up, and his scary aura increased. Tsuna started panicking, wondering what he could do, and just what was happening.

Then Sena did the unexpected. He lifted the same hand caressing Tsuna's best friend's face to his own face.

Tsuna was terrified. He couldn't imagine the other boy being anymore scary.

Sena felt his own forehead and chirped, "Nope, no fever! He should be right as rain when he wakes up!"

All the tension seemed to drain out of Juumonji.

"Sena-nii!" Tsuna jumped at the chance to speak with his brother before the mysterious feeling came back. "We just got here, sorry we're late!"

"Psh," Juumonji spoke up suddenly. "It was his fault. He wondered around so far, he got lost."

"Yeah, but Juumonji-kun was really amazing! It was like he could find Sena-nii's house from anywhere! He was like a homing pigeon!" Tsuna expounded, hoping compliments would calm the other boy down.

"Idiot," Juumonji flushed. Well, at least it seemed to work.

"What's wrong with that one?" He changed the subject forcefully. "Kuroki's awake already."

"Oh, is he? I was going to check on him when I finished checking Yamamoto-kun for a fever." Sena stood up and brushed himself off. "I still feel really bad for dragging them at such speeds. Kuroki-kun's been thought the death march, so he would recover faster, but Yamamoto-kun…"

He looked a little worried as he bit his lip lightly in agitation.

Juumonji watched Sena's nervous habit almost absently and spoke up. "Yeah, but the other one plays sports too. Namimori's sports teams must be really weak if he's the ace baseball player."

"Yamamoto's amazing! You shouldn't pick on him." Tsuna stood up for his friend, despite his trembling. "It was bad luck all around."

The baseball-minded boy in question let out a deep sigh, sat up, and stretched. He slowly opened his eyes and asked with a grin, "Is that Tsu-kun I hear? Does that mean we're finally ready to go?"

"H-hey! I-idiot! Don't call me that!" Tsuna flushed and rounded on the blond lineman, "I take it back, pick on him all you want!" He sulked.

"Aww, don't be that way, Tsu-kun!" Yamamoto called to Tsuna's retreating back. "Maa, maa, is this Sena-senpai's room?" He looked around, easily distracted.

"Wow, is that the MVP trophy you broke, Sena-senpai? Haha, that's too funny!"

"Well, it sounds like someone's fully recovered." Sena grumbled at the teasing. "I'll just head down and set up the shower arrangements then."

"Ah, the guys are not going to believe I've been to Sena-senpai's house!" Yamamoto laughed as Sena left the room, and snapped a picture of the broken trophy on his cell phone.

"Hey."

Yamamoto looked up from fiddling with the settings of his camera phone to the grave voice of the oldest 'Huh-huh brother'.

"What are you trying to pull with Sena?" Juumonji demanded.

"Pull?" Yamamoto cocked his head to the side curiously. "He was dragging me!" He defended.

Juumonji dropped his head into his open palm. "…Never mind. Forget I said anything. C'mon, let's go, before you start sorting though his underwear drawer."

"… Where do you think it is?"

/\-/\-/\-

"I'm really, really sorry you guys!" Sena exclaimed, bowing low and shutting his eyes tightly. "The hot water heater is broken, and we don't have any hot water, and we can't get anyone in to fix it, and I'm really sorry, I know I said we could shower here, and I know that we were…"

"It's just broken?" Monta interrupted, eyeing Musashi subtly.

Or at least it would have been subtle if the rest of the team (minus Sena's friends, who were looking increasingly bewildered) hadn't been staring at him also.

"I'm an unlicensed contractor, not an unlicensed plumber. Hot water heaters are right out of my pay grade." Musashi declined firmly. "Why don't we use the bath house down the way?" He offered without any real interest.

Sena brightened noticeably. "I-"

He was cut off by his mom sticking her head around the corner from the kitchen where she was having coffee with Nana, Mamori, Suzuna, Kyoko, and Ryohei. Despite her protests, that nice girl with the eye patch had already had to leave, with those two rather rude boys walking her home.

"Sena, that nice team captain, Hiruma-kun, just phoned. He said that he phoned the owner of 'Kirei no Mizu' down the street, and negotiated a group discount!" She chirped, with a slight blush on her cheeks. That Hiruma-kun really was a charmer!

The whole Devil Bat team twitched subtly. Hiruma, _nice?_

"Hi-Hiruma-san wouldn't have…" Sena trailed off nervously. He'd never be able to enjoy the bath house again if Hiruma-san threatened the owner.

"Well, we do have a large group," Monta chimed in, answering his rhetorical argument. "And with your brother's friends, we'd probably take up the whole place anyway. Just think of it the same as when Hiruma-san unofficially/officially books a restaurant," he finished with a grin.

"Tsuna-kun, do you mind if you and your friends accompany us to the baths first, before we go out?" The ever thoughtful Yukimitsu gently asked.

Tsuna smiled brightly, "I don't mind, it'll be just like old times, right Sena-nii?"

"Is that what maman was talking about this morning?" Reborn asked with a smirk from Sena's shoulder (hey, when did he get there in the first place?), "That when you and Sena-chan were playing, you'd never want to let anyone else play either? Did you not even let him bathe by himself?" he mocked.

Tsuna flushed, "Sh-shut up!"

"Aww!! That's so cute! You didn't want to share your big brother with anyone!"

Tsuna jumped slightly and whirled around.

"Ah! It's cheerleader-san!"

Suzuna pouted, "How rude! I've introduced myself twice already!"

"I'm sorry," Tsuna started, "But I really do owe you my thanks for helping me, Yamamoto, and Gokudera get to Sena-nii after he was injured, Suzuna." Tsuna bowed respectfully.

Suzuna blushed brightly, "Sena, your brother has really good manners!" She enthused. "But I didn't give Goku-kun anything…"

She was quickly cut off by said silver-haired boy. "Where are we going after you all clean up?"

The group gave him a blank look.

"Shouldn't _someone_ have thought of this, at least?" Gokudera scowled.

"Err… how about a movie?" Toganou offered.

"There's nothing out but chick flicks and anime," Juumonji complained.

"What's wrong with anime?!" Demanded Toganou. Sena silently agreed with this question.

"Let's go out to eat!" Kurita drooled.

"Fuugo!" Komusubi agreed.

"The non-athletes don't get hungry quite as quickly, Kurita-san," Yukimitsu smiled good-naturedly.

"O… Oh, that's right." Kurita looked down and pressed his index fingers together in a slightly dejected manner.

"Arcade," Kuroki decided.

"Hey, wait! Let's talk about this!" Monta protested.

"Nope," Kuroki grinned, "Sena likes arcades too. That makes it two against zero, seeing as there've been no other real suggestions!" He slung an arm around Sena's shoulder in an 'of-course-he's-voting-for-arcade, I'd-never-force-my-good-friend, now-would-I?' gesture.

"You'd better not be picking on Sena!" Mamori called from the kitchen.

Kuroki shuddered and removed his arm quickly. What a scary team manager.

"Actually, I do vote for arcade," Sena rushed to finish, "That is if no one else minds…"

"Tch. I guess we haven't been there for a while." Juumonji agreed, turning his head away to hide his slight smile at Sena's slight assertiveness.

"They have a new game I want to try anyway." Monta didn't bother to hide his affectionate grin.

"So arcade it is? What about your friends in the kitchen, Tsuna-kun?" Yukimitsu quickly dropped into organizer mode.

Ryohei leaned around the corner, having caught the tail end of the conversation anyway.

"MOCAP BOXING TO THE EXTREME!" He cheered, thrusting a fist into the air.

Gokudera twitched a little in irritation, but held his tongue after seeing the monkey kid and the Tenth's brother's matching smirks of mischief.

"Bet I can still own you in Street Fighter," Sena beamed at Tsuna.

"Who says 'extreme'?" Monta teased. "I do everything to the MAX!" Monta grinned at Ryohei.

Tsuna and Ryohei exchanged slightly startled glances at the shift from polite to challenging, before breaking out into their own grins.

"It is _so_ on." They agreed.

-/-\-/-\-/-

Sena did a quick head count of the males preceding him into the changing area on the men's side of the baths while trying his hardest to ignore the slightly crying owner to his left. 12… 13… 14… He frowned. Where had Lambo-kun gotten off to?

"Tsu-kun? Have you seen Lambo-kun? I thought he was with you…" Sena stopped Tsuna, who fortunately the last one in line, and voiced his slight worry.

Tsuna, meanwhile, was having a full-fledged panic attack knowing just how much damage the five-year-old was capable of.

"Over here~! I'm going with Kyoko-nee, Copy-san!" Lambo shouted and flailed from said girl's arms.

"L-Lambo-kun! You can't!" Tsuna panicked, worried about not only the child's manners, but the child's Ten Year Later Bazooka.

"He's young enough, Tsu-kun," Sena put a hand on his brother's shoulder to restrain him from trying to retrieve the child. "If the girls don't mind, then let's just go relax, alright?

"But… He… I guess that's fine then…" Tsuna conceded.

After all, it wasn't like Lambo would bring a bazooka into the bath with him, right? And even if he did, it would probably get all wet and wouldn't work. Yeah, he had nothing to worry about. …unless, getting it wet lead to a malfunction! Look at what happened last time it malfunctioned! At that train of thought, Tsuna's eyes widened, and he moved to take Lambo back from Kyoko-chan; only to realize that he was no longer in the entry way at all. He was in the changing room, if he wasn't mistaken…

"Tsu-kun? Aren't you going to relax with us?" Sena questioned.

"Ye-yeah." Tsuna did his best to push the concerns out of his mind and get ready to scrub down before sinking into the blissfully warm bath. He quickly changed and hurried out after his brother.

Tsuna glanced around, trying to locate a spot where he could sit next to his brother in the blue-tiled rectangular wash room.

He quickly scanned the room like the young hit man beside him had always tried to drill into him. The Devil Bats alone took up the middle two rows, directly in from the doorway. Monta and Ryohei were actually the first ones changed and into the wash room; they wanted to compete to see who could with stand the heat of the bath the longest.

'_Kurita-senpai and Komusubi-senpai were a close second, though_,' Tsuna thought with a fond smile. He rather liked the way they got so carried away with the small things in life.

Ryohei and Monta sat closest to the doors of the actual bath, facing away from each other; after Monta sat Yamamoto, who was waving him and Sena-nii over to the row of seats. Sena waved back and sat next to him with a cheery greeting, and an inquiry as to Yamamoto's health. Tsuna quickly confiscated the seat next to his brother, and Gokudera sat next to him.

The three brothers finally wandered in and Kuroki took the seat next to Ryohei, with Juumonji sitting directly behind Sena, and Toganou behind Tsuna. Tsuna didn't see Musashi-san, Yukimitsu-san, Ishimaru-san, or Taki-san, so he assumed they were sitting along the far wall.

Tsuna was a little shy about wearing nothing but a towel around all these muscled football players (even Sena-nii had some definite muscle tone), but with Gokudera jealously guarding his left and Sena-nii on his right, he sternly told himself to get over it and filled his wooden bucket to dump over his messy hair.

Tsuna slowly cleaned himself, ignoring the baby at his feet, but his eyes continuously darted to Sena-nii's back and away quickly.

Sena-nii seemed really absorbed with talking to Yamamoto, but Tsuna really, really wanted to…

"Dame-Tsuna, are you checking out your brother?" Reborn smirked cruelly.

"Wh… Are you… I Wasn't… What… I…" Tsuna sputtered indignantly, before settling on a, "Gross!"

"Then why do you keep glancing at him like a blushing virgin?" Reborn taunted.

"I… wanted to wash Sena-nii's back." Tsuna hung his head and mumbled to the tiles.

"What was that, Dame-Tsuna? I couldn't hear your pathetic whining."

"I said I wanted to wash Sena-nii's back!" Tsuna yelled back. He froze in horror, realizing what Reborn had just goaded him into. He also noticed that his exclamation happened in the middle of a lull in conversation, so no matter at what volume he had said it, it would have sounded unnaturally loud.

Tsuna looked at the patterned tiles, wondering how in a life as weird as his, it was impossible for the ground to swallow him up.

"Sure Tsu-kun, I don't mind. Actually, thank you!" Sena beamed.

Slowly Tsuna let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and asked, "Are you sure, Sena-nii?"

"Of course, we are brothers." Sena reassured.

Tsuna smiled widely in delight and reached out to wash his brother's back that was now facing him. He hummed a happy tune to himself as he slid the soapy cloth around in soothing circles, and could have purred in contentment, his memories of a happy childhood overshadowing years of separation. "Sena-nii still has really good skin!" He chirped.

For some reason, Yamamoto made a choking noise, and rinsed off quickly, making sure there was no trace of soap left on him. As soon as possible, he bolted for the baths.

"I'm going on ahead, see you there." He called back, all but running.

Behind him Juumonji also made a weird noise, but stayed in place.

Tsuna reached out and rinsed off his brother's back.

"Thanks, Tsu-kun!" Sena smiled. "Your turn."

Behind him, Juumonji made the weird noise again, rinsed, and bolted as quickly as Yamamoto.

+-+-+-+-

Sena slowly sunk into the bath, letting out a contented, "ah" at the pleasant heat.

Beside him, his brother and his friends also let out blissful sighs.

"It's been a while, since we've gone as a group like this." Monta spoke up.

"Not since we went with Kakei-san, right?" Sena affirmed.

"Kakei from the Poseidons?" Ryohei asked, fascinated.

"Yeah, it's a funny story." Monta affirmed. "Mizumachi-kun thought the only reason to go to a bath was to swim or to peep on the girls' side"

As if on cue, a shout came from the girls.

"Lambo-kun! You can't bring that in here!"

Beside Sena, his brother froze in place.

"Ah, Lambo-kun must have brought a toy in with him." Sena tried to relax his brother.

"Eiiiii! Lambo-kun! Behave yourself!"

Tsuna started to hyperventilate.

"Don't cause trouble for Mamori-san, brat!" Monta yelled over the wall.

"BWAHAHAHA!! Lambo-san can do anything he wants! Lambo-san is invincible!"

Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and lots of feminine screams.

"Pervert!! There's a pervert in the baths!!"

"Tenth! Let me take care of this! I have my new water proof dynamite!"

"GOKUDERA! NO!" Tsuna cried out, too late. '_Where would he even have kept them,'_ he cried silently.

The resulting explosion destroyed the dividing wall between the male and female sides, and resulted in even more screams.

Tsuna and Sena sat next to each other, tears dripping down their faces.

"Why does this happen whenever we go to a bath house?" Sena asked miserably.

"Why does this happen whenever we go out in public?" Tsuna asked bitterly.

Suddenly, the door was kicked in.

"ALRIGHT YOU LAYABOUTS!" Hiruma stood in the doorway, looking inordinately pleased with himself. "Get out!" He punctuated his order with a spray of bullets. "Get out, get out, get out!" He crowed. "Get out and get dressed! We have places to be!"

"Hiruma-san!" Sena called out to the previously MIA quarterback. "Where have you been?" He asked curiously.

Hiruma turned slowly, ignoring the mass exodus surrounding him. "Oh, did someone have a question?" He smirked evilly at his running back.

"N-no!" Sena squeaked and grabbed his towel and brother to leave.

"Sena! Is Hiruma-kun picking on you again?!" Mamori demanded from beyond the damaged wall.

Sena took in said gaping hole, the empty, slightly messy (from the quick exit,) and bullet-riddled room.

"No, Mamori-nee!" He lied and ran.

+___+___+

I meant to get to the arcade in this chapter too, but this has already hit my record of eleven pages. And that's before the A/Ns. (Lots of notes today, lol!)

Down here, I want to thank my Anon source about bath houses, and explain the joke about Reborn picking on Tsuna. To wash another's back is very intimate. "Intimate - as in sibling intimate or intimate - lover intimate." So depending on perspective, what Tsuna yelled could have been really perverted.

Also, Mithras151 was the one who demanded this bath house scene. Originally the characters were going to go straight to the arcade -_-'' so all blame/praise goes to them.

Kirei no Mizu – Pure water/Beautiful (?) water. Again, from Mithras.

I'm not sure that bath houses even have owners, they might be a government service in towns (that's what I understood from one source I read), but either way, I guess I'm just bustin' out some artistic license :)

Thanks for reading and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own: Eyeshield21, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Shonen Jump, Street Fighter, nor Dance Dance Revolution.

* * *

Tsuna's heart swelled in contentment. After a hasty exit from the bath house at the quarter back's behest, a group of noisy, playful athletes flooded the local streets. He was glad everyone was having fun, but that wasn't the reason he felt a grin stretching his lips no matter how much he tried to cover it up. He was with his brother again!

He walked by his brother's side, closely enough that sometimes their identical jackets brushed, but far enough away that he could convince himself he wasn't being clingy. If that weren't enough, he had his best friends flanking both him and his brother. His family, aside from the two most anti-social (or the most sociopathic), was mingling with what could only be described as his brother's family easily; and odd though it may seem, he wished (just a little, mind) that Chrome-chan, Mukuro-san, and Hibari-san could enjoy this with him.

Somehow, he - with I-pin on his shoulder - and his brother - with Lambo and Reborn on his - ended up in the middle of the group. Monta-senpai was walking backwards, speaking animatedly to Sena-nii, along with the dark-haired… Brother…? Tsuna wasn't quite sure if they were related or not, but 'Kuroki-senpai' seemed to be really excited to play with Sena-nii at the arcade. Ryohei and, (Tsuna flushed) Kyoko-chan were adding to the conversation. The Devil Bats team somehow spread themselves almost evenly around their small running back, almost as if they were worried that he'd be carried off. Or that he'd wander off. Tsuna wasn't quite sure.

Tsuna felt a brief jostle to his opposing elbow, and looked over to his self-proclaimed 'right-hand man'.

"You alright, Tenth?" His storm guardian asked quietly, "You've been zoning in and out all night."

Tsuna chuckled awkwardly at getting caught spacing out. "Yeah…" He reached out to grab the door to the arcade that Sena-nii was holding open for him. "Well you see…"

He was abruptly cut off from following his brother in by an archetypal muscle laden delinquent who pressed past him roughly. Tsuna let out an indignant little snort, but moved to follow anyway.

"Hey! You can't do that to the Tenth! Get your steroid-laden ass back here!" Gokudera verbally attacked.

"…What the shit did you just say to me small fry?" Demanded said steroid-laden ass, slowly turning back to the loud mouth middle school brat. "I've been stuck behind your retarded little daycare group taking up the whole fucking sidewalk all night, back the fuck off brat."

"I won't let you talk to the Tenth like that!" Gokudera barked heatedly, readying his weapons. "Your-"

Gokudera was cut off by Juumonji grabbing his arm and passing him back to a half-interested Toganou, who didn't even look up from his Jump.

Gokudera struggled ineffectually, pissed off that he couldn't teach that bastard a lesson, that the kid holding him didn't even use half his strength, and that that damn scar-face was butting into _his_ fight.

"In case you haven't noticed, you're surrounded by eleven American football players. That kid over there is a boxer, and that chick over there wields a mean mop. Why don't you just slink off before we hand you your ass for a farewell present as we show you to the door." Juumonji smirked sinisterly.

The boy's face mottled brightly, '_Either from rage or embarrassment that he was being threatened with a mop._' Tsuna nodded to himself sagely. Reborn shot him a weird look from Sena-nii's shoulder.

The thug bristled and opened his mouth to retort when Hiruma placed a splayed hand on his chest and shoved him out of the way casually.

The blond demon hefted one of his larger rifles over his shoulder and stalked past the conflict into the arcade. He blew a bubble of sugar-free gum nonchalantly and turned his head back to the conversation at an almost 180 degree angle. "You forgot the team captain with the AK-47." He grinned manically.

The teen wilted visibly and eyed the gun cautiously before turning back to Juumonji and Gokudera. "This isn't over, assholes. Not over by a long shot. For the rest of your puny lives, you will look back and curse this as the day you crossed Yamada Taro!"

Tsuna couldn't help it. He tried, he really did. He knew it was best to not antagonize bullies, but he couldn't help the small chuckle that slid past his lips.

The bully turned swiftly to him. "You got something to say?!" He demanded; only to whip around to Monta's small stream of snickers.

"What?!"

Yamamoto lost control of his amusement next, laughing to himself quietly.

Gokudera flailed his legs, trying to kick the baseball-idiot from the glasses' kid grip. "You don't get to laugh, you have a common name too, idiot!"

"You got a problem with my name, assholes!?"

"Kekeke," Hiruma slung his free arm around Sena, forcefully turning his head to look at Taro and, carefully so he wouldn't drop his rifle, pointed to Yamada Taro. "This… Is a fool. A fool." He explained to Sena, not unlike at Sena's first practice with Hiruma and Kurita.

"You really expect people to fear such a common name, fool?" Juumonji mocked smugly. "Why not ask an American to fear a John Smith? Idiot."

Behind Juumonji, even non-confrontational Yukimitsu was trying to stifle laughter. "You might want to consider taking on a more menacing alias, if you intend to continue threatening middle schoolers. I recommend something historical." He offered, trying his best to cover his smile behind his hand.

"Enough of this shit" Taro bellowed and swung a meaty fist towards the first offender, Tsuna.

Juumonji caught his arm easily and gripped tightly enough to surely leave bruises. "This just stopped being funny." He informed him with steely eyes. "Let's take this outside; we've blocked the doorway long enough."

"Fine by me," The thug agreed, and tugged his imprisoned arm quickly. He managed to free it, but not without difficulty. "Not my problem if you have a death wish." He turned to head back out the door.

Juumonji moved to follow, but was intercepted by a swift push from Sena. The thug turned and tried to land a sucker-punch while Juumonji hadn't been paying attention. If not for Sena's reflexes, speed, and short stature, one of them would have been laid out by the dishonorable attack.

"What the hell?!" Juumonji roared, and moved to counterattack. He reached behind himself to tuck Sena out of harm's way, only to find that he was short one running back. And the orange-haired chick was up two brats.

"Sena? Sena?" He looked around frantically.

"He went this way!" Juumonji heard a call.

Fearing the worst, he turned and indeed saw the brunet chasing after the cowardly thug.

"I can catch him, but I can't tackle him unless I catch him at an angle." Sena called back to Hiruma, waiting for instructions rather than moving to take the boy down.

"Just come back here, fucking pipsqueak." Hiruma drawled, "I have a name and a description. He won't be back here tonight. If we ever see him again, it'll be as a slave." He cocked his gun decisively.

Sena trotted back effortlessly and headed inside. "That's true too. Oh, well, you owe me a game of Street Fighter, Tsu-kun!"

"Wooah! That was EXTREME!" Ryohei cried enthusiastically as the group milled around the arcade, selecting games. "Sena-senpai! I challenge you to a match!" He demanded.

"Eh, heh heh..." Sena laughed nervously. "Maybe later, Ryohei-kun." He dearly wanted to edge away from the loud underclassman, but his sister was still holding Lambo-kun and Reborn-kun for him.

"Thanks… Kyoko-chan, right?" He smiled at the girl who blushed brightly and offered the cow baby and hitman back. Lambo gleefully recaptured his perch, but Reborn only used his shoulder as a launching point to jump to Hiruma's.

Slightly startled, Sena looked to Hiruma to see if he should recapture the tiny home tutor to keep him from bothering Hiruma-san.

Hiruma-san just grinned massively, to show he was alright if the odd baby remained lounging on him.

Slightly startled, Sena looked to Reborn to see if he should recapture the tiny home tutor to keep Hiruma from eating him.

"Come on, Sena-nii!" Tsuna called, and grabbed his arm to drag him to the game. "I call Ryu!"

"Hey, no fair!" Sena protested. "I want to be Ryu!"

"I thought you'd want to be Chun-Li," Tsuna looked up, guilelessly. "She's the fastest."

"… Was that a shot?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sena-nii." Tsuna assured him with wide, limpid eyes.

Sena rolled his eyes, and snorted. "That has never worked on me, little brother." He moved his controller, absently choosing one of the fastest characters he was actually willing to play, Vega, while keeping a close eye on Tsuna's progress in choosing a character.

Carefully, subtly, and without moving his eyes from Tsuna's controller, Sena called Tsuna's attention to Kyoko with a false nonchalance. "Is Sasagawa-chan playing DDR?"

"What?! Where!?" Tsuna whipped his head around to watch his crush with an innocent smile. He whirled around, eyes searching, before his mind fully processed the diversion.

Sena's lips curled into the most evil smirk to have ever crossed them, and he reached over to Tsuna's controller, right as said younger brother processed the deception and moved to intercept his older brother's treachery.

"Sena-niiiii!!" Tsuna whined, upon seeing how his brother extracted revenge.

"What? I thought you liked girls?" Sena baited. "Ready to play, Chun-Li?"

Sena heard choked laughter behind him, but only responded by tilting his head slightly, and cast a darting glance at the source. As he could well testify, a person who spends their childhood with their gaming system is a person you shouldn't take lightly at an arcade.

"Hmm? Can I help you, Gokudera-kun?" Sena asked.

More choking noises, but this time, it wasn't laughter, and it wasn't from Gokudera.

"Did… Did he just…?" Tsuna stammered, completely ignoring the game.

Figuring Vega was safe from Chun-Li (seeing as Tsuna was gaping at his friend) Sena also looked up from the game to the other boy.

"Sorry; go ahead…?" Sena offered.

Gokudera was slightly flushed from Tsuna's gaping gaze, and from being the center of attention of both the tenth and the tenth's brother. "That turf-head… Annoying idiot… So impatient…" He mumbled and fiddled with a wrist band, trying to keep his composure.

"Oh, is Ryohei-kun demanding his match already?" Sena translated.

Gokudera was saved from having to answer by loud music coming from the machine behind him. He turned quickly, just in time to see Tsuna land the death-blow.

"Tsu-kun! That wasn't very nice!" Sena grumbled. "I was talking to your friend!"

"Psh," Tsuna disagreed. "What wasn't nice was subtly questioning my sexuality. This was just fun!"

Sena took the high road (making a weird face and sticking out his tongue) before turning back to Gokudera. "Since your friend is being a brat, it's your responsibility to kick his ass at Street Fighter while I go challenge Ryohei-kun."

Sena grinned at Gokudera's stupefied expression from being asked to kick his boss' ass and wandered over to where the EXTREME boxer was playing a first person shooter with Toganou.

With a small smile, that Tsuna knew he'd deny if he pointed it out, Gokudera moved to Sena's recently vacated spot. "Hey, Tenth? I like your brother. He's a good guy."

Tsuna's resulting grin was beatific. "Yeah, I know."

Gokudera cleared his throat, and pretended to study the instructions for the game closely. Tsuna acted like he didn't see the slight pink covering his friend's face as a cost for the admission.

Gokudera cleared his throat uneasily. "You ready?" He asked, motioning towards the game waiting for the players to start round two.

Tsuna nodded, but was a little confused. He was sure Gokudera had a bigger question than if he was ready to play, judging by the other boy's unease.

He was quickly proven right.

"So, why were you spacing out earlier, Tenth?" Gokudera inquired while punching in a combo move Tsuna had to work quickly to block.

"I-I'm just happy…" Tsuna refused to tear even one eye off the game, fearing that if he didn't concentrate on Chun-Li he'd start tearing up. "I… I just missed him, y'know?"

That small smile was back on Gokudera's face. "Yeah. Yeah, Tenth, I know."

They both looked up with no small amount of alarm when they heard a cheer rise from the corner of the room. They turned away from the game console to see just what had caught so much attention.

Simultaneously, their jaws dropped. Over in the corner, Sena was engaged in a heated battle with Sasagawa, and it had drawn a crowd.

That, however; was not what caused their eyes bug out in shock. What surprised them was Sena's battle was not with Ryohei, but Kyoko, and that he'd apparently moved on from the first person shooter game to… DDR?

And he was good. Sena's feet didn't even seem to be hitting the arrows anymore, but he was scoring 'perfects' with every step. As he was moving, most of his concentration was on Kyoko-chan; carrying on a conversation effortlessly.

Suddenly unable to take in the surrealism anymore, Tsuna and Gokudera exchanged looks. Upon looking at each other, they couldn't hold it in anymore, and burst out laughing. The doubled over and leaned against each other, trying to find support in one another, lest they end up on the ground.

+_/\_+

Sena thanked an out of breath but grinning Kyoko for the game and moved though the crowd of middle and high-schoolers pressing him for a match or an autograph.

He wanted to head back to his brother to hang out a bit, but as he was coming up on Tsuna and Gokudera he saw them doubled over laughing. He smiled and decided to let them be (even though the joke was more than likely on him) and instead moved to lean on the back wall, a little more worn out from the game, the paparazzi rush, and the DDR competition then he cared to admit.

As he was leaning, he noted with faint bemusement that he must be more tired than he originally thought, because he seemed to be sliding down the wall into a sitting position. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his arms on them, while watching the room with a peaceful smile. Even when he took the time to sit on his own, he wasn't really alone. He was with all his friends, hanging out and having fun. Sena couldn't remember being any happier off the football field.

In an attempt to keep his eyelids from drooping, Sena watched his friends have, apparently, the time of their lives. Monta was being thoroughly owned by Yukimitsu in air hockey. Sena smiled at the upper-classman using the arcade staple for an impromptu math and geometry lesson. Monta was taking it incredibly well (although Sena well could imagine the seam coming out of his ears as the result of his brain overheating, had he been in Monta's place).

Mamori-nee had taken his spot in Dance Dance Revolution against Kyoko-chan, and they seemed to have more fun talking about the music selection than in playing the actual game. Sena was glad Kyoko-chan had someone to play with; she seemed so shy being the only girl in the smaller group other than I-pin. So when Sena caught her casting longing glances at the game, he was more than happy to put his pride on the line to cheer her up.

Sena looked around for Suzuna, knowing that whether or not she liked the dancing game, she disliked removing her rollerblades. He eventually spotted her shooting aliens with, of all people, Hiruma-san. Even more amusing, was that she seemed to be holding her own. Though that might have been because of her brother's flamboyant bragging to a group of girls nearby. Or maybe because Reborn was reclining nearby calling out marginally helpful hints to the girl.

Kurita had taken up Ryohei's challenge of Mocap boxing, with Komusubi cheering his 'master' in his own language. Sena had asked Kurita to confirm that that was alright with him, and the kind third year told him about training he'd done with Banba over the summer. He said that they'd developed a new regimen of not just taking the hits, but incorporating the basic moves to help block. He seemed as excited to face Oujou as Sena was, even though his rival had already graduated. But right now, Kurita's face was scrunched in concentration, trying to beat Ryohei's high score while simultaneously explaining to Ryohei why he couldn't join the middle school boxing team.

Toganou and Kuroki were having the time of their life in a racing simulator. Sena chucked to himself. From where he was sitting, it looked more like they were trying to destroy each other's car than trying to win the game. They were easily the loudest in the arcade; with one crowing in delight when they pushed the other off the track and the unfortunate other letting loose a string of curses that earned them some dark glances.

Juumonji and Musashi-san were playing another fighting game, and it looked pretty heated. Well, at least from Juumonji's side. Musashi looked as calm as ever, and his subtle barbs were just clear enough to piss Juumonji off more, without being explicit enough for Juumonji to retaliate. Sena felt sweat drip down his face. Well, at least Musashi-san was enjoying himself. Sena was a little worried he'd feel too mature to want to play around in an arcade.

Tsu-kun and Gokudera-kun were still having fun, but the other children had managed to find their way over to them. Lambo-kun was draped over Tsu-kun's shoulder enthralled with the moves, yelling out random catch phrases when he found it appropriate. I-pin was on the other shoulder, just as enthralled, but lightly mimicking the moves, almost unconsciously. Tsu-kun and Gokudera-kun were competing furiously, even though the silver-haired Italian seemed to be apologizing after every big hit, no matter how much Tsuna tried to wave the apologies away.

Sena scanned the room again and frowned. Where was…

"Yo!" Yamamoto chirped, leaning over a seated Sena; his head almost fully upside-down to make eye contact.

Sena let out a little yelp and tried to shoot up, only to collide with Yamamoto's hovering form, bashing their heads together.

"Hiiiii!" Sena cried out in pain. "Yamamoto-kun! Where did…? Geez!" He rubbed his head wearily, "Do I need to get you a belled collar like Pitt's?"

"Owww…" Yamamoto agreed, rubbing his chin. "I was just wondering where you went Sena-senpai! I haven't seen you since you tore it up, DDR style." He teased.

Sena buried his face in his arms. "Shut up." He grumbled. "And it's _Sena_." He emphasized, "Se-n-a. You could even throw a '-kun' on at the end, as long as it'll stop you from being so formal."

Yamamoto grinned his trademark blinding grin. "Alright Se-n-a-_kun_. Why are you so good at Dance Dance Revolution?"

Without removing his head from the relative safety of his arms, Sena mumbled back: "I'm not going to give myself whiplash talking to you, you sit down too."

With a continuously growing (and suspiciously satisfied) grin, Yamamoto sank down into a sitting position as well. Latching on to his new teasing material, he noted to Sena, "You can't get whiplash if you won't lift your head! I'm sure the great Eyeshield 21 isn't _blushing_ over mad DDR skills, is – mmmf"

Yamamoto was abruptly cut off by a wild eyed Sena holding both of his hands over his mouth.

"Don't use that name here!" Sena hissed, looking around anxiously to make sure no one had heard.

As he swept the room surreptitiously, he did notice one thing. His hands were still covering Yamamoto's mouth.

"Hiii!" I'm sorry Yamamoto-kun! Sorry!" He cried out in embarrassment.

"Maa, maa, don't worry about it…" Yamamoto started before getting a rather fanatical gleam in his eye. "As long as you tell me about the DDR thing."

Sena slumped with a sigh. "You really don't give up, do you?" He inquired rhetorically.

"Nope!" Yamamoto agreed. "But you digress."

"But I digress," Sena agreed. "Well it's not like it's something interesting anyway." He said, as he tried to relax a little and calm his nerves down. "I've been trained as a sprinter. Quick starts and on-a-dime-stops. Sprinters have quick feet."

Yamamoto threw his head back and laughed.

Sena smiled weakly, "See, I told you it wasn't that interesting…" He looked away.

Yamamoto carefully wiped away tears from laughing to hard. "No, no, it's not that." He assured. "Just, as a fellow athlete – though in a different sport – I know how difficult it is to train for that kind of thing. Plus you had such precision control over each movement. You've been training very hard, and it shows. You're a model athlete, Sena-_kun_." He offered with a kind smile.

"No I'm not." Sena denied automatically. "I just really like it. What about you? Juumonji-kun said you were Namimori's ace…?" He let it hang for Yamamoto to fill in his own sporting experience.

"Ahaha," Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I don't know really. Baseball's just really something I've always been passionate about. I think it's because I'm a people watcher."

Sena subtly scooted away.

"Hey!" Yamamoto protested and frowned at the new distance. "Not like that!" He stretched out his arm and looped it around Sena's shoulder to pull him back across the floor, not liking the new distance between him and his hero.

"It's just interesting to watch people and how they interact. I don't know when I started doing it, but I do remember watching a baseball game when I was little. It was funny that they couldn't hit the ball, and I laughed the whole game when they missed. Dad told me it wasn't as easy as I thought it was, and when we got home, we went to the park so he could show me how to play. He says I picked it up really quickly!" Yamamoto grinned hugely at his enraptured listener, (so enraptured, in fact, that he didn't even realize that Yamamoto had yet to remove his arm).

"You must have really good eyes, then, Yamamoto-kun." Sena said decisively. "You can probably read the pitcher, and the trajectory of the ball, right?"

"Ahaha…" Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head awkwardly with a sheepish grin, "I've been found out!"

"So with Yamamoto-kun's strength, and his eyes, he must be unstoppable on the diamond!" Sena proclaimed with a fist in the air.

"Maa, maa, I'm no where as good as Sena-kun, but I do like the feeling of winning games. For a while it was my everything." He admitted softly and looked at the cold tiles below him.

"That's no good, Yamamoto-kun." Sena said firmly.

Yamamoto's head snapped up in shock at the criticism.

Sena looked him firmly in the eye, and said, "You can't focus your whole life on your sport. I love football. It would hurt to have to give it up. But, I have my family, my mom, dad, Mamori-nee, my little brother, and Nana-san. I have my friends, my teammates. I have my friends from other teams, my former rivals. And now I have you and Gokudera-kun too, don't I?" Sena questioned with a smile.

Yamamoto stared at Sena in shock. "I… Yes. Yes, you have us too." He smiled to prevent tears from over flowing. "Yeah. You have all of us."

"You too, Yamamoto-kun. Now you have me too, so don't feel like you only have baseball, alright?"

"Sena-kun." Yamamoto looked down at his smaller upperclassman, "You're just too cute!" He grinned, breaking the gravity of the situation and tried to hug his senpai.

"Gah! Yamamoto-kun! What are you doing?!" Sena flailed, attempting to get away from the grinning middle schooler.

"I can't help it Sena-kun, you're just too cute!"

--*=*--

Juumonji leaned over the back of Kuroki's racing simulator chair moping. Musashi thoroughly kicked his ass, Kuroki and Toganou wouldn't stop their stupid tournament and play with him.

"GAH! Just go the hell away, Kazu! You're blocking my mojo!" Kuroki demanded.

"Is that any way to talk to your best friend!?" Juumonji raged, delighted at the prospect of picking a fight.

"Yes, yes, you're our bestest friend in the whole wide world and we love ya, man. Or whatever the shit you're looking for." Toganou mocked. "Go find Sena, he'd be more than happy to kick your ass at Street Fighter."

"Yeah, right, that baseball kid's probably hanging all over… him…" Juumonji trailed off with an odd look.

"Isn't that more of a reason to go find him?" Kuroki asked.

"…"

"Kazu? Kazuki?" Kuroki looked back to his friend.

"When did Kazu-chan get that fast?" Toganou asked idly.

"I don't know and I don't care. Prepare to get your ass kicked! Muahahahahaha!"

Toganou rolled his eyes.

x[]x[]x

"Waa! Yamamoto-kun! Bad touch, bad touch!"

Juumonji sped up, a little more than he'd care to admit. As he rounded the corner, he was struck by the odd scene.

That Yama-kid was sitting cross-legged, with his arms around Sena's waist. It looked almost like he was trying to… drag Sena into his lap?

"Noooo! Yamamoto-kun~!" Sena whined, flailing helplessly. That piteous wail snapped Juumonji back to his senses.

"Call me Takeshi. Ta-ke-shi. You can even throw in a –kun, if you want." Yamamoto mimicked with a Cheshire grin.

Juumonji closed the distance gap with wide, swift steps.

"… What the hell?" Juumonji asked looking down on them incredulously.

Sena looked up with wide, watery eyes. "Juumonji-kun! Help me! Save me!" He moved his hands from trying to pry Yamamoto's arms off his waist and raised them in the air, silently augmenting his cry for help.

Juumonji whirled around, raising a hand to his nose to make sure no embarrassing liquids were dripping from it.

"Maa, maa, Juumonji-senpai, are you thinking something dirty?" Yamamoto asked innocently.

Upon finding his nose blood-free, Juumonji slowly turned back slowly.

"Is there some reason you're obviously molesting my teammate?" Juumonji demanded coldly, as he carefully took Sena's proffered hands and tugged him out of the middle schooler's grip.

"Sena-kun's legs were gonna get cold sitting on the cold tiles! In order to protect his sports career, it's only right that I sacrifice my lap to keep him in peak condition, wouldn't you agree, Juumonji-kun?" Yamamoto's eyes glinted, picking up the thrown gauntlet.

"A-Ah, Ta-Takeshi-kun, I appreciate your concern, but I'm alright, really!" Sena protested, waving his arms around in a warding gesture from in front of Juumonji. "I really wasn't cold at all!"

Sena regretted his words the minute he said them. As the last syllable slipped from his lips, the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

"So it was intuition that told you your _upperclassman_ was chilled?" Juumonji mocked.

Sena shuddered a little as the temperature dropped a few more degrees, and stepped back towards the fiery heat coming off Juumonji-kun in waves.

"Yep!" Yamamoto grinned shamelessly.

"Juumonji-kun! Takeshi-kun was just about to tell me the story about him meeting Tsuna! Sit with us!" Sena sweated desperately, his voice jittery as he attempted to diffuse the situation. He even sat back down next to his semi-molester, in an effort to show Juumonji that it was all just a big joke.

Both Yamamoto and Juumonji frowned, for different reasons.

As little as Juumonji wanted to spend time with that stupid brat, he wanted to leave his teammate alone with him even less. Besides, at least Sena got close to him willingly, he decided, before claiming Sena's other side.

"Ah, well…" Yamamoto hesitated, not really wanting to disclose such a personal story. He'd hinted at it earlier, but saying it outright to Sena's teammate, someone _he _wasn't close to _and_ Sena-kun? It made him uncomfortable.

"I guess it's the watching thing again…" Yamamoto frowned to himself, trying to decide how much to tell his upperclassmen.

"Watching thing?" Juumonji questioned with an upraised eyebrow.

"Takeshi-kun is a voyeur." Sena informed him matter-of-factly.

Both boys froze and looked at the running back who was smiling as cheerfully as if he'd just explained that his class didn't have homework.

"…"

Juumonji turned quickly and hunched over with one hand braced on the wall to support himself and the other covering his mouth to cover his laughter.

"Mou! Sena-kun! I told you! Not like that!!" Yamamoto pouted, but not without a retaliatory gleam in his eye.

Sena scooted away quickly, bumping into Juumonji in his haste.

"I know that look." Sena pressed his side tightly to Juumonji's in healthy paranoia. "I was just kidding. Absolutely. I in no way besmirched your honor. Takeshi Yamamoto is NOT a voyeur." He tried for damage control.

Yamamoto smirked and raised his eyebrows, not breaking eye contact with Sena for a minute.

"Oi, you're crushing my arm." Juumonji broke into their moment.

"S-sorry, Juumonji-kun!" Sena jumped, tearing his gaze away from Yamamoto's almost hypnotic one.

"No worries," Juumonji grunted. "Just let me…" He extracted his arm and carefully laid in on Sena's shoulders, as if simply to make himself more comfortable than to keep Sena pressed to his side.

"So what about stalking his little brother?" Juumonji smirked, looking over Sena's head at Yamamoto.

"I _watched_ Tsuna for quite a while…" Yamamoto tried to explain. "Everyone kinda picked on him, but he really seemed interesting. Despite what everyone said," Yamamoto's fists clenched a little involuntarily, "'Dame this, dame that, he's no good.'" Yamamoto mocked bitterly.

Yamamoto's expression mellowed. "Tsuna's a good kid. He's humble, and empathetic, and, well, Tsuna's just a good kid, Sena-kun." He over to Sena beseeching him to understand his feelings, not just his words.

Sena looked into Yamamoto's eyes and searched. Silence fell in the small the group, making the electronic music and cheerful chatter almost overwhelmingly loud.

Finally, Sena closed his eyes and smiled. "Yeah."

"So you do kendo?" Juumonji asked.

Yamamoto jumped, forcing himself to look away from Sena's mesmerizing smile.

"Wh-What makes you say that?" Yamamoto leaned over Sena to look at Juumonji.

"One of the basics of swordsmanship is observation. Swordsmen watch everybody; it's part of their personality." Juumonji shrugged lop-sidedly, one arm still occupied with Sena. "I took a class once. I hated it. I just don't care about people enough to watch them."

Sena chuckled. "Liar. You've been with the Devil Bats too long to say such things."

"HUUH?! When did you get so bold, little Sena?!" Juumonji demanded in mock anger.

Yamamoto breathed a little sign of relief at Sena changing the subject from Kendo, and quickly, so as to keep his lapse secret, jumped in on teasing the upperclassman.

Sena-kun and his friends really were just too interesting.

[]o[]O[]o[]

After picking on Juumonji-kun with Takeshi-kun for a while, Sena was dragged off by his little brother for a Street Fighter tournament to end all Street Fighter tournaments.

At first Takeshi-kun and Juumonji-kun stuck around to watch for a while, but after Takeshi wandered off to play Gokudera-kun, Juumonji left to have a rematch with Musashi.

The night wore on, and Sena and Tsuna were still engrossed. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and slowly the group started fragmenting and heading for their homes.

First was Mamori-nee. She had to help her mother with some sort of project tomorrow, so she needed to leave early. Taki, not one to refuse the role of hero, (even if it was just in his own mind) offered to escort both his little sister and the team manager home.

Monta, not to be upstaged by his sometimes-rival, declared in a loud voice that Taki was too much of an idiot to escort Mamori-san alone. He blushed and stumbled over the words a lot, but eventually offered to go with the small group.

Kurita-san and Komusubi-kun were the next ones to leave, citing early morning training, even on a Sunday when the rest of the team had it off. Komusubi-kun had called his father from Kurita-san's cell and in terse, short burst of discordant words obtained permission to stay over with his 'master'.

Sena cheerfully bid his friends goodbye, but couldn't look up from the screen; he was deadlocked in a five game to five game tie with Tsu-kun.

Surprisingly, in between games, Hiruma-san tilted his head backwards to say goodbye while leaning over him and warning him not to get molested on his way home tonight.

Sena grinned and offered a cheeky, "No promises!" Before waving to Musashi-san and thanking him for coming with them today. Because he lived near Hiruma-san (assumedly, the current theory floating around the clubhouse was that the team captain didn't have an earthly home, but a portal to the underworld), he'd usually leave with Hiruma-san.

Musashi-san smiled back and thanked Sena for inviting an 'old man' like himself.

Sena laughed and blushed a little, remembering his reaction when he was first introduced to Musashi-san. He turned back to find Tsuna had selected Chun-Li for him in retaliation for the first match. Or maybe it was because Sena was up seven to five in the battle.

Ryohei-kun came to talk to Tsuna about leaving, and offered for him and Kyoko-chan to drop off I-pin-chan and Lambo-kun on their way home. Tsuna, who was finally getting the upper hand in the battle, gratefully accepted and sent the two sleepy babies home with them. Before they'd gotten too far, Yukimitsu-san offered to go with them, but expressed concern over where Reborn-kun had gotten off to.

Ryohei-kun had employed his stellar misdirection skills and told him that Master Pao Pao had come to train him in his legendary boxing style, and would drop him off at home later that night.

Upon seeing Yukimitsu-san's incredulous look, Tsuna assured him that Reborn had gone ahead home with Mamori-san.

Finally, it was just Gokudera-kun, Takeshi-kun, Juumonji-kun, Kuroki-kun, and Toganou-kun left with Sena and Tsuna.

Gokudera-kun was the first to address the concern of a curfew.

Finishing another round resulting in a nine game to nine game tie, both Sena and Tsuna called a truce to talk to Gokudera.

"A curfew? I didn't even really think about that…" Sena trailed off.

"I'm not sure I've ever had a curfew." Tsuna agreed, leaning against the machine.

"It's probably 'cuz we're so lame and don't really stay out anyway." Sena agreed.

"Psh, speak for yourself, athlete!" Tsuna teased.

Sena shot his brother a mock-glare and assured Gokudera-kun, "I have my cell on me, so I don't think it's an issue, but if you'd like to leave, you can go on home."

"N-no!" Gokudera assured, "It's just that that baseball idiot has one, and I was wondering if you did.

"Takeshi-kun does?" Sena questioned. "You should have told us earlier," He scolded Yamamoto's approaching form.

"I don't if I stay the night with someone… Senpai." Yamamoto grinned slyly.

Out of nowhere, Juumonji snagged the collar of Yamamoto's jacket.

"Nope. Not tonight, not ever." He assured, and dragged Yamamoto behind him. "See you later Sena, I'll drop this one off."

Kuroki and Toganou followed snickering.

"C'mon, kid." Kuroki ordered Gokudera. "We don't know where he lives, and he'll probably be sulking too much to tell us."

"Who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders?" Gokudera snarled.

"Well, I guess if you want your friend to have a private sleep-over with Sena and Tsuna-kun…" Toganou teased.

Shaking a glazed look out of his eyes from that visual, Gokudera readily agreed to go with them and give Juumonji Yamamoto's address.

Sena smiled and shook his head.

"Ok, Tsu-kun, one last game, then we'll head home."

Tsuna looked like he wanted to disagree, but was unable to hold back the yawn of agreement.

It was a heated match; round one went to Sena, round two to Tsuna. The blows fell like rain, the combos - merciless. No quarter was asked, and none was given. Then, just as the brothers both wound up for their respective deathblows, the graphics scrambled.

"Nooooo!" Tsuna cried out and dropped to his knees, fake crying.

"Dork." Sena chuckled, extending his hand to help his brother up. "C'mon, let's head home; mom always makes a special sweet when we win. I think that's her way of apologizing for not going to the early games, even though it's my fault 'cuz I didn't tell her."

"That must have been sad." Tsuna commented, and leaned his head on Sena's shoulder as they walked out of the arcade.

"It doesn't matter, they know now." Sena assured with a smile.

Tsuna tore his eyes off his brother and onto the street in front of him. He may be with his brother, but he didn't like going out this late at night for a reason. He looked around, trying to make sure no weird mafia hitmen, or babies, or mafia baby hitmen would pop out of the woodwork, so to speak.

Sadly, checking his path had become instinct for dame-Tsuna.

Tsuna was a little ashamed of his paranoia, and was about to turn back to Sena-nii and reengage the conversation, only to catch a flicker out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head back to catch the illusive light, and sure enough, it was the flicker of a lighter, dancing on the tip of a thug's cigarette. And what thug traveled alone?

"Sena-nii," Tsuna tugged on his sleeve. "Sena-nii, there's a group of kids up ahead."

"They probably won't bother us." Sena smiled. "It'd be different if you were cute or a girl, but…" He teased.

"Sena-nii means 'a cute girl' I'm sure." Tsuna glared. "I'm adorable."

Sena bent over in suppressed laughter.

Tsuna just grumbled. "Seriously, though. Isn't there another way we could take?"

"Well, up ahead a bit, there's an alley… but you'd be breaking at least three horror movie rules even stepping foot in there." Sena finally admitted.

"If they're in the street, they're not in the alley. Let's go!" Tsuna urged.

Sena sighed, but allowed Tsuna to grab the arm of his jacket and drag him into the dark alley.

Which, apparently, was absolutely the wrong thing to do.

"Hey shorty, remember me?" Grinned the remarkably unremarkable face of Yamada Taro.

"Actually, no." Sena smiled. A year ago, a situation like this would have sent him flailing and panicking to get away. But now, with immunity built up against these kinds of scenarios with the Devil Bats and one little brother to protect, that was enough for Sena to stand his ground.

Tsuna elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't antagonize him!" He hissed lowly.

Taro laughed darkly. "Well then, that's all for the better! Let me reintroduce myself! I am… MUSASHI! The fearsome samurai!"

Sena choked and Tsuna giggled. Gradually, the giggles got louder and louder, until he was full out laughing, despite his earlier admonition to Sena not to antagonize him.

"You… You actually took his advice?" Tsuna laughed incredulously.

"No good." Sena said indifferently, holding his arms across his chest in an X shape to emphasize. "We've already got one."

This caused Tsuna to laugh even harder. "Se-Sena-nii! Stop! I can't breathe!"

Taro's face turned bright red. "Well, then, let's see how much you like this! Twenty of my closest friends!" He barked angrily.

The thugs from the street filed into the alley, cutting off all hope of escape in the direction of the arcade. Sena tensed, and grabbed Tsuna's arm, getting ready to bolt past Taro.

"Ah-ah-ah, _Sena-nii,_" Taro mocked. "There's no escape in that direction either." As he spoke, the other ten thugs closed in from the opposite direction. There were too many of them for Sena to even attempt a Devil Bat Dive- not to mention, he wasn't even sure he could do it while carrying Tsuna on his back.

Sena sighed dramatically, while subtly pushing Tsuna behind him, and backing up against the wall. "Such a simple trap, funneling us into the alley. I'm a little embarrassed we fell for it." Despite his bold words, his hands were fumbling behind him, desperately trying to find a weapon.

Tsuna gripped his shoulders and hissed directly into his ear, trying to keep the gang from overhearing, "Sena-nii, what are you doing? Let's just run for it."

Sena smiled reassuringly. "In just a bit, Tsu-kun." In reality, although Sena could dodge through a crowded marketplace easily, there wasn't a single path of light to show Sena how to get past the gang. His heart beat faster. This usually only happened when he was up against Shin-san after the older boy had perfected a new move. That is to say, at this point in time, it was impossible to run.

"Are you ready to die by the hands of the great… Tokugawa…?" Taro hesitated, as if asking the boys rather than trying to intimidate them.

"This kid is seriously lame, Tsu-kun." Sena said loudly, shooting a glance over his shoulder, hoping Tsuna would take the hint and piss off …Tokugawa… while he searched for a weapon amongst the debris in the alley. He actually wasn't quite sure he could grip a weapon, should he find one, his hands were shaking so badly.

"Oh, I know, right? Taking suggestions from his enemies and then asking their opinion? Why doesn't he just survey random people in the street?" Tsuna called back loudly, hoping Sena-nii knew what he was doing.

"That's it! Fear the wrath of TOKUGAWA!" …Tokugawa… roared, and charged the boys.

Sena panicked, sweat running down his face, knees trembling. He reached blindly in a hazy attempt to save his brother and closed his fist over the first solid metal object he could find, and whipped it around to defend them. In his haste, Sena's first reaction was to block the oncoming fist.

He heard a whistling noise and stopped to look at his weapon. A rusty old chain. By some stroke of luck, the chain had wrapped around not only the oncoming fist, but the opposing wrist that was held up to …Tokugawa's… chest defensively. Effectively shackled, everyone froze and looked at Sena.

"You didn't tell us he was armed!" A random thug shouted.

"Fuck that! You didn't tell us he was any good armed!" Another shouted.

"This isn't worth 1,000 yen! I'm out of here!" A rousing chorus followed that sentiment, and a group of eight thugs took off.

Sena still couldn't see the path.

"Your _closest_ friends, huh?" Sena mocked with a quirked eyebrow, hoping that the thug's shifting would open up a path.

"Shut up!" …Tokugawa… roared.

Seeing the remaining group closing in, Sena pulled his weapon with desperate strength, pulling the chain away, and sending …Tokugawa… into the opposite wall, where he slouched and disappeared under the crush of thugs.

Unable to control the chain as it came back, it struck a kid with a wannabe Yukuza hairstyle in the temple, knocking him down for the count. Most of the thugs backed out of range then, except for one who moved too slowly, who got the chain wrapped around his neck.

"Ahhh! He's choking me! He's choking me! I'm going to die!!" He screamed hysterically and took off, pulling the chain away from Sena.

"D-Damn it." Sena cursed with shaking knees. "Any good weapons back there?" He asked his little brother huddled behind him.

Tsuna wordlessly handed him a length of pipe, one side corroded, and one side looked like it had just been unscrewed from the wall behind him.

"Thanks." Sena whipped around and caught an advancing thug in the stomach.

"No." He smiled. "You don't get to put your filthy hands on my adorable little brother."

Behind him, Tsuna winced as Sena got another thug in the side. Sena swung wide, and caught a particularly tall kid in the hip, causing him to crash into another and sending them both into a wall knocking them out. The thugs were terrifying enough, but the subtle change that overcame Sena's mild-mannered personality would have been even moreso- had it been directed towards him.

"That's enough of that."

Before Sena could move, Tokugawa was at his side having advanced in Sena blind spot, and punched him in the kidney.

Sena dropped to his knees gasping for breath, vision blocked by bursts of light. He didn't remember ever having been hurt as badly before, not even when Shin-san trained him for the Christmas bowl.

"Sena-nii!" Tsuna cried out, trying to dart to his brother.

The back of his shirt was caught by Tokugawa and he was raised slightly off his feet. "Not so fast, princess, you get to watch while we crush your mouthy big brother. THEN, we'll have some fun." He grinned viciously.

Growling, Tsuna lunged for his face. "I won't let you!" He howled. "No matter what, I will stop you!" He swung and caught a lucky punch, knocking Tokugawa off balance before moving into a rudimentary fighting stance copied from Ryohei. Damn it, he faced off Xanxus- he was not going to let himself or his big brother get hurt.

[]~[]~[]~[]

"About time, dame-Tsuna." Reborn muttered to himself from the rooftop and calmly shot Tsuna in the head.

[]+[]-[]+[]

Sena propped himself up, gasping, and looked around for his brother. Suddenly he heard a shot, and his worst fears were realized. Tsuna had been shot in the forehead. One minute he was in a fighting stance, the next he was crumpled on the ground with blood dripping from his forehead.

"Tsu-kun? TSU-KUN?!!" He cried out hysterically.

"You bastards!" He tried to push himself up, but still didn't look at the six remaining thugs and Tokugawa all eyeing each other uneasily. He couldn't take his eyes off of his brother.

"RE-BORN! PROTECT SENA-NII WITH MY DYING WILL!"

Sena started backwards, falling on his ass, and hissed in pain.

"Wh-what?"

Tsuna's clothes ripped apart, leaving Tsuna standing on his old body in nothing but his tuna fish boxers.

Sena panted, and wondered if he'd fainted again. He shifted back and winced. Nope, his kidney still hurt.

All of a sudden, Tsuna was a whirlwind of destruction, landing punches and kicks, destroying all opposition until he was face to face with the Tokugawa.

Although stupid, Tokugawa was still a gang leader for a reason, and did a pretty good job holding Tsuna off for quite a while. The archetypal muscle laden delinquent seemed to be landing almost as many blows on Tsuna as he was receiving, even if it was with much less force behind them. It was only the sheer desperation Tsuna felt knowing the bullet might wear off at any moment that gave him the edge he needed to defeat the gang leader.

Looking down at the defeated Tokugawa, Tsuna felt the bullet's power waver, then shut off, not a moment too soon.

"Se-Sena-nii?" He called softly. He defeated the last of the thugs for him, but what if Sena-nii thought he was a freak? He did just rip out of his own corpse.

"Tsu-kun."

Tsuna whipped around to the soft call.

"Thank you for protecting me." Sena smiled, trying to just not think about what happened, instead praising him from where he was propped against the wall.

Tsuna walked over and dropped to his knees in front of him. "Sena-nii? Are you alright? Are you bleeding?" He spotted blood seeping from points on Sena's knees, "Oh crap! You're bleeding! We need to get it cleaned up! What happens if it gets infected?! What if..." Tsuna cut himself off by passing out into Sena's waiting arms.

This had been an exhausting day for both of them.

They did have to get out of there before the thugs woke up though.

"Tsu-kun? Tsu-kun we have to go. We can't go home with me barely being able to walk, and with you in your boxers. Where should we go, Tsu-kun?" He asked the last part more to himself, than to the sleeping boy. Sena just hoped he was sleeping, not rendered unconscious by Tokugawa's blows. He was afraid it was a little of both.

"Kobayakawa Sena."

Said boy snapped his head up, and curled around Tsuna protectively. He may have failed the first time, but he would never, never leave the boy to fend for himself ever again.

His eyes caught a silhouette from the end of the alley. The shadow stretched to the height of a full grown man, though from the back lighting, it seemed he was quite short.

"Ciaossu." Reborn greeted as he stepped to where he was more visible. "I understand you need a place to stay."

* * *

A/n: wow, long chapter this time. 8,000 words, give or take, and a little over 21 pages. (hopefully this will make up for the huge gap between postings -_-) As always, thanks to my betas: Shinnie the Meanie who gave me all the great sources for the games and the arcade, and Mithras151 for playing demon editor even though they're so busy. I honestly don't know how I could do this without them.

And for those of you who don't know, I have an ongoing deal with Mithras151 that for every chapter of ES27 I post, they'll post a new chapter of Love Drunk Punks (which is EPIC) So you should go check it out!

Finally, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!


	9. Chapter 9

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Sorry, but this chapter is darker, and a little more angsty... it was hard to write.

* * *

Sena hefted Tsuna higher up his back with a labored grunt. His little brother was tiny; however, to Sena's embarrassment, he wasn't that much bigger. He was following the baby… Home tutor? Was that true? Sena didn't know what to believe anymore. Watching your little brother die and resurrect himself to protect you could flip your sense of reality.

The baby lead them though the twists and turns of the back alleys, the shadows twisting and dancing in the headlights of passing vehicles. Sena felt twitchy, jumpy; but decided he was justified seeing as he was jumped in one of these alleys not that long ago.

"Reborn-kun?" He called out, huffing a little. His kidney ached, and his brother got heavier and heavier with every step.

The toddler turned around, highlighted in the backwash of ruddy neon lights, and studied Sena before turning back the direction he'd been heading without a word.

"A-Ah, Reborn-kun!" Sena carefully juggled his brother to reach out to the young… child… ignoring him entirely. "Reborn-kun…" He rushed to catch up with the now swiftly moving infant.

"I-I don't think I can…" Sena pitched forward and caught himself on the alley wall, careful not to jostle his brother too much. He coughed harshly into his hand and when he pulled back, he saw blood. _'I didn't get hit in the ribs; I shouldn't be coughing up blood.'_ He limped forward, trying to catch up with the canting child, only seeing the edge of his coat tails.

He absently tested the inner surfaces of his cheeks for the cut, as he worried about losing his escort. _'There.'_ He located the cut with a wince, but couldn't stop himself from worrying it. Maybe it would keep him from worrying about the boy on his back.

Sena huffed and wheezed. This was one of the most demanding days of his life. The football game this afternoon seemed like ages ago, and the wear and tear on his body made his every move cause each muscle and tendon scream in a moment of unending agony.

His heart thudded dully in his chest, and he clutched his precious family to him. He moved in a sort of dull haze. Each step was like moving though a thick liquid; he was making progress but at a price. He kept moving forward, working to keep his eyes on the home tutor. Sena didn't know why he was following him anymore; he just knew on some level that the boy would lead him to _safety_.

He was jolted out of his haze by a shoulder high wall. More specifically, by running into said wall.

Sena looked up and around like a sleepwalker roused. He'd lost all grasp of time, but it seemed far too early to have ended up in such a quiet, unassuming middle-class neighborhood.

His eyes drifted from the wall to the two story, Western-style house. It was difficult to tell, even in the better lighting of the well-to-do neighborhood, but the house seemed to be a bland powder-blue.

Dismissing the house out of hand, he looked around for his illusive guide. They boy was several yards away, standing on the top of the wall surrounding the house. Reborn stayed still only long enough to establish eye contact with the footballer before calmly strolling around the perimeter of the wall to the open gate.

Sena, as usual, followed.

Sena leaned on the brick wall as he drug himself around to the front gate where Reborn was watching and waiting, as alert as any cat. The worn running back groped in the semi-darkness for the handle of the small gate. His eyes were blurring and his back was breaking, but let it not be said that Kobayakawa Sena was not a well mannered boy.

"Is this alright? Are you friends with the owner?" Sena croaked out, voice dry with fatigue and from calling out to the other all night.

Reborn, as expected, barely graced Sena with a glance before launching himself off the wall and onto a dark, shadowy figure.

Sena's heart lurched in his chest before beating uncontrollably. He couldn't take anyone on in this condition! And Tsuna was still out cold! He jerked backwards, knowing that as he did so, he was in condition to neither fight nor flee. He froze in panic, wondering just what he could do to defend himself and his brother.

His eyes snapped unexpectedly into focus and Sena let out a quiet breath of a sigh. The figures that had appeared so looming and threatening in the shadows cast by the bright streetlights were, in reality, life-sized stone angels flanking the concrete path, marking the end and beginning of the small porch. With his newly adjusted night vision, he watched Reborn-kun scamper around the shoulder of a dark-winged angel holding a spear and disappear from sight.

Sena started to worry in earnest now. Before he'd been worried for his brother, sure, but he'd trusted Reborn-kun to lead them to a safe place to rest. Now that the boy was out of sight, Sena reached through the gate and started fumbling for the latch. His eyes refused to leave the dark warrior angel, despite the heavy burden of Tsuna, or the damned lock refused to come undone!

Sena pressed forward to both relieve the pressure on his back and attempt to see what he was doing when the gate swung open. He stumbled in, narrowly avoiding the cold pavement rising to greet him. The running back looked around wildly, trying to find the cause of his sudden lack of equilibrium, and found himself staring down at the sadistic smirk of the child he'd been following.

"Thank you for opening the gate, Reborn-kun. Sorry about being so clumsy." Sena offered in slight bewilderment. How had that child managed to get away from the warrior angel and to the gate in the time it'd taken Sena to examine the gate?

Reborn scoffed at the running back's manners, and climbed up the second angel. This one was of lighter stone and held its hands open in welcome.

"Reborn-kun, should you be up there?" Sena asked, worried.

"Watch closely, initiate. The warrior protects the gate. The greeter admits you entrance. This is important; we'll have a test over it next week." Reborn drawled.

"Reborn-kun, I don't understand." Sena admitted humbly.

Reborn sighed. "It can't be helped. Come around behind me onto the porch."

Sena hurried to obey. He laid his brother down to rest on the smooth, cool wood nearest the house, and moved to see the home tutor more clearly.

"Back here. In the angel's wings." Was all the advice the harsh instructor would give him. "You'd better hurry, I'm sure 'Tsu-kun' would prefer to be warm and comfortable after protecting you.'

Sena frowned. He probably deserved the jab for letting his brother fight his battle, but that seemed too cruel. While the unkind words would usually dishearten him, he found in this instance, that they fanned the flames of his determination. Determination to prove Reborn-kun wrong. Determination to prove that he was not stupid and weak. Determination to take care of his little brother in return for his brother taking care of him.

He studied the back of the angels closely; wishing, for all his bravado, that Reborn would have given him a slightly clearer hint. As Sena studied the wings carefully, he wondered what he was looking for. Reborn's advice rang in his head. 'The greeter admits you entrance'? What did that even mean?

The statues were of unparalleled excellence, finely carved down to the least detail. Each feather looked insubstantial, as if they'd float off the angel's back in the slightest breeze. Sena ran his fingers over them in awe at the craftsmanship. To be honest, he was a little surprised when his fingers met cold stone rather than downy feathers. He absently felt along the hard, cold spine of a stone feather, and wondered how the statue could welcome him.

The statue did have its hands out stretched in greeting, but Reborn-kun told him to look at the angel's back… '_I'm no good with riddles.'_ Sena smiled wanly as he kept running his fingers along the wings, '_I guess in this situation, I only have luck_.'

As if the universe had been waiting with bated breath for the short high schooler to admit his reliance, Sena moved his hand to caress a particularly tempting patch of feathers, and one of his fingers caught the stone at an awkward angle. He felt, with no little alarm, the sharp materials slice through the pad of his index finger easily. He jerked his finger back with a hiss, pulling it to his mouth in a childish attempt to stem the flow of blood, when he saw it. The area that he'd just cut his finger seemed to have swayed a little. The motion was so brief, so fleeting that Sena couldn't have been sure that he did see anything. '_But,_' He decided, '_I did say I'm trusting my luck…_'

Despite his boldness, Sena was hesitant to pull his injured finger out of his mouth and test the carving again. He scrunched his eyes shut and promised himself he'd test the treacherous seraph in 3… 2… 1… Ok, in 5… 4…

Sena heaved a sigh of exasperation. With all the scrapes and bruises he'd gotten today, why should he be so frightened of a carved feather off a stone angel? Maybe he'd been around Hiruma-san too long…

The brunet reached out his cut finger resolutely, determined to puzzle out this mysterious, blood-thirsty riddle. He carefully skirted the area where his blood still stained the light stone and tested for movement in the feathers. He felt a little foolish, trying to move stone feathers, but that only lasted long enough for him to find the section of movable, _sharp_ feathers.

He pulled back quickly in shock and pain, cradling his injured fingers. Sena wiped away the blood welling up from the small, almost paper-cut-esq slices, but his attention was more on the still swaying razor-sharp feathers. There was something behind them. An alcove.

"Reborn-kun! Reborn-kun!" Sena couldn't help but get a little excited that he'd found something despite his pain. "Reborn-kun! Did you know there's a –mfff!–"

"Shut up, idiot!" Reborn hissed, while covering Sena's mouth with both of his tiny hands. Sena looked up at the child perched on his head with, wide, confused eyes. "Do you want all our enemies to know how to get in?"

Sena's eyes widened in glee as his mind connected the dots. "That alcove has the house key?!" Sena stage-whispered as he maneuvered around the small hands covering his mouth. "There has to be some trick to it, otherwise everyone'd slice up their hands, like I did. Do you know? What's the trick, Reborn-kun?" Sena chattered, excited at his achievement.

Reborn sighed, "So useless without me. I'm just too kind." He reached into the headband of his fedora, and held out a small, triangular bit of metal. "The warrior protects the gate." He said, a little sulkily.

"But… The… Oh!" Sena paused as the clues clicked together. He accepted the metal form the warrior's spear-point and held it up to the razor-sharp feathers. They parted easily, drawn by the magnetic force of the spear-head. "It protects this gate too, right?" Sena confirmed with a blinding grin, from having puzzled it out.

Reborn let out a long-suffering sigh, but under the brim of his hat shading his face, he smiled fondly. Sena really was a good kid, for all the hitman's torture.

Sena reached into the alcove behind the feathers, and pulled out a key. He laughed with unabashed delight. "Warrior-Angel-san was guarding the gateway into the house too! And Greeter-Angel-san really is admitting us entrance! Reborn-kun, Reborn-kun! That was really clever!" He gushed.

Still hidden under the brim of his fedora, Reborn basked in the praise while tormenting Sena more. "Shouldn't you get 'Tsu-kun' inside, or don't you care if your precious little brother catches a cold?"

He snatched the key and scurried to the extravagantly carved doorway. The short footballer looked indecisively between the over-sized doorway and his little brother resting on the porch. He started shifting from foot to foot in anxiety. He should open the door first, so that he wouldn't fumble and endanger Tsu-kun, but he really did want to get Tsu-kun off the cool wood…

Sena slumped in frustration. This day would just would not get any easier, would it? He straitened resolutely and walked firmly to the door. He loved his little brother with all his heart, but it would do no good to get him off the ground, just to have to set him back down to unlock the door.

The key entered the lock smoothly, allaying one secret fear of Sena's, and twisted easily too. The door, once unlocked, swung open silently to a dark and empty foyer. Sena clung to the door jam and leaned over so he could poke his head in the doorway to look around uncertainly. "Hello?" He called out, still unsure that this would be alright, to just break into someone's house. Reborn, however, had no such qualms and, ignoring the high school American football star, meandered in as if he were the owner.

Sena stared after the child blankly for a moment then set his lips into a trembling line of half-determination (that he usually reserved for plays that he was kinda-sure would work) and walked back to his childhood friend. Sena draped Tsuna over his back again with a grunt and a stagger. It shouldn't come as a surprise that he could barely lift the marginally smaller boy; the surprise should have been that Sena was even standing.

"Come on Tsu-kun," Sena muttered more to himself than his brother-figure, "Reborn-kun found us a place to stay tonight. I'm not really sure what's going on, but I think this'll be fine." Sena's voice seemed to fade in and out as he pulled himself into the house and sat Tsuna down on the hardwood floor. The running back pulled the door shut and locked it behind him, just in case, before pulling his and his brother's shoes off. He arranged them neatly near the little half-step that Tsuna was sitting on before lifting his brother again.

"Sorry for intruding!" Sena called into the empty house. He stepped into the hallway and looked around for the diminutive home tutor. To his right was a lavish living room, fit to receive heads of states, and to his left was an elegant dining room, large enough to seat the hypothetical dignitaries. Sena caught sight of the baby turning a corner up ahead of him and sighed. For a moment, he dazedly wondered if the house was going to take as long to navigate as the alley ways leading to it. Shaking off the ridiculous thought, Sena drug his socked feet along the smooth hard-wood floors, looking for Reborn.

Sena followed the hallway to the staircase on his right. He glanced up, and saw the home tutor waiting for him at the head of the stairs. Sena's jaw dropped. "I can barely walk, and you want me to climb a flight of stairs?!"

"Stop being such a whiner," Reborn called back, undeterred.

Sena knees shook at the mere thought, but squared his shoulders and lifted himself and his baby brother up the first step.

"Good job," Reborn drawled, "Only nineteen left to go."

Sena turned red, but tried his best to ignore the taunting and focused all his attention on the tricky staircase. He rose one step at a time, while his knees screamed that this was worse than three Hell's Towers. Sena lifted his leg again, poised to take the next stair, when he realized there were no more to climb. He looked around in confusion, wondering when he got to the top of the staircase without even noticing and looked for the home tutor.

The kid was standing at the far end of the hall, waiting for them. Having established eye contact with the exhausted running back, Reborn slipped into the room without so much as a backwards glance.

Sena shuffled forward, confident the end was finally within sight, and almost laughed in delight when he pushed the door open and was proven right. The room was obviously the master bedroom, and was very well furnished. Sena dragged himself and his brother across the plush carpeting, and more-or-less collapsed on the huge, luxurious bed.

"We're here, Tsu-kun." Sena murmured to himself sleepily, as he watched Reborn come out of what must have been the master bath, dressed in polka-dotted pajamas and a weird sleeping cap. Sena turned away from the surreality of the baby, and concentrated on dragging his brother and himself into a marginally more comfortable position on the mammoth bed.

"Don't fall asleep yet, initiate." Reborn warned, "We still have _so much_ to talk about." He finished with his sadistic home tutor grin.

"'s no good," Sena slurred while arranging his brother with the care of a mother cat arranging her kitten. "'dun think I can stay awake…" He trailed off before hugging his brother closely and dropping off to sleep.

"Well, there's no helping it, I guess." Reborn surveyed the two boys almost fondly. "But tomorrow…" He trailed off, and his affectionate quirk of a smile turned feral and heartless. He propped himself up in an overstuffed chair and watched the boys' breathing patterns until he drifted off to sleep himself.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Reborn jolted awake (not that an outside observer could tell, the child still had his eyes wide open and a bubble expanding and contracting with his breathing hanging from his nose) at the sound of Tsuna's breathing pattern changing. He listened cautiously, wondering for a moment if he was getting worse, or just waking up. The pained groan coming from the boy settled things as Tsuna gingerly sat up, rubbing at his over-stressed back and shoulder muscles.

"Ciaossu."

Tsuna jumped at the disembodied voice floating out of the darkness. The bed that he'd found himself on when he'd woken up was stripped with white light shining though the wooden slats of the venetian blinds from the nearby streetlamps, but that was the only source of light in the room. His eyes gradually adjusted he spotted the baby in the corner of the room.

Reborn was sitting upright with one leg crossed over the other professionally. His head was raised proudly, as if he wasn't just awoken in the middle of the night while wearing polka-dot pajamas. In short, he looked every bit the proud hit man he was.

"Reborn!" Tsuna called out in surprise, "What time is it? Where are we?"

Reborn let out an evil little chuckle. "Just like you, no good Tsuna, to ask the useless question first. We'll have to have a little observational training when we get home."

"Hiiie! I retract my first question!" Tsuna pulled himself up so he was sitting with his legs crossed and knees apart on the bed, then waved his arms as if to ward off the potential training. "Where are we?" He reeled back for a moment as if shocked, "Where's Sena-nii?" He demanded, voice tinged with hysteria.

"You're a hundred years too early to be demanding answers from me, no-good Tsuna," Reborn informed darkly.

Tsuna's face blanched, but he stood his ground, terrified for his brother. His last memory was being surrounded by thugs, and Reborn's bullet. Now, he was in a strange place and with a distinct lack of older brother.

Reborn sighed. "I guess there's no helping it. He's on your left."

Tsuna cautiously patted the covers around him, looking for his brother while trying to avoid hitting him in the face. He let out a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he made contact with his brother's warm form. He left his hand where it'd landed - somewhere on the upper arm - and addressed Reborn in a much more quiet voice. "It's a wonder that he didn't wake up." He stared down at his brother, or what he could see in the half-light.

"We're in a Vongola safe house." Reborn ignored Tsuna's affectionate concern and concentrated on teaching his charge.

"Safe house?" Tsuna looked up, confused.

"It's a house where you're safe, you idiot. It's someplace the family can run to in the event a mission goes bad, or if we need to house some out-family visitors. Idiot. Who doesn't know what a safe house is?" Reborn grumbled.

Tsuna backed up against the headboard, as far as he could go, hoping to avoid the reach of the diminutive hit man. "B-but why is Sena-nii here? Isn't it too dangerous for him?"

"Then just induct him into your famiglia, then." Reborn instructed mercilessly.

"What?! NO!" Tsuna shot upright from his previous weary slump at Reborn's suggestion. "It's bad enough he had to see me in Dying Will mode, but to drag him into this too!?" Tsuna argued heatedly, having forgotten that Sena was only feet away and still asleep. His forgetfulness didn't last long, though. He was forcibly reminded of his sibling's presence by the older boy shifting in agitation at the loud noise. Tsuna watched his brother with bated breath, praying for Sena to go back to sleep.

It seemed like luck was on his side, this time, because Sena settled down, back into an uneasy sleep. Tsuna silently vowed not to let himself get carried away again.

"Tsuna. You need to tell him." Reborn told him, eyes fixed not on the tenth Vongola boss, but on the Tenth's older brother figure. Reborn matched Sena's frown. "He knows too much for his own safety."

"He doesn't know anything!" Tsuna denied in a heated whisper.

"He knows those Yakuza thugs reacted when he raised his wristband with the Vongola crest. He knows Gokudera addresses you with a title rather than by name. He knows his little brother, who he was defending because he was helpless, got shot and then Reborn out of his old body. What would you think?" Reborn asked solemnly. "Plus, with his speed and weapon handling…" Reborn trailed off with a devious smirk.

"No." Tsuna refused flatly.

Reborn ignored him. "Even if you don't invite him – which will effectively be signing his death warrant – you at least should tell him about your involvement. You owe him that much." That having been said, Reborn hopped off the comfy chair and headed out the door.

"Reborn! Where are you going?!" Tsuna called after him desperately, reaching out.

"What am I supposed to do?" He whispered to himself, dropping his arm slowly, as if it were gradually increasing in weight and too heavy to hold up anymore.

"Wha's wrong, Tsu-kun?"

Tsuna jumped at the sleepy slur of his brother. He'd already forgotten his resolve not to wake him. Useless. He looked down at his friend he'd been so close with in childhood, and who'd welcomed him back into his life without hesitation, even though Sena-nii was a superstar now. Tsuna's eyes took in the beaten and exhausted form of his loving big brother, the brother that took on a crowd of thugs and risked serious injury, injury that may have destroyed his sports career, just to protect him. He should have protected Sena-nii. It was his turn, damn it! This time, he was stronger.

He was jolted from his self-loathing by a pair of warm arms wrapping around him tightly.

"It wasn't your fault."

Tsuna froze.

"Those thugs could have chosen anyone to pick on, you didn't antagonize them! They're just assholes!" Sena whispered urgently, and held his brother tightly.

Tsuna felt worse.

"Sena-nii, I think I have something to tell you." Tsuna pulled back from his brother's embrace and sat knee-to-knee with his best friend. "I'm the tenth-generation boss of the Vongola family of Italy." Tsuna hesitated, and glanced at his brother's face from under his bangs. "It's a mafia family…" He added lamely.

Sena sat frozen as his mind put the puzzle pieces together for him. The wrist band, number 90's attack. "…Oh." Was all his brain cells could manage. He visibly gathered himself though, instinctively knowing that he couldn't pull back from his brother without hurting him either mentally or physically.

"I think you'd better start from the beginning." He finally said, with a wan smile.

Tsuna let out an almost sob-almost sigh of relief, and launched into what his brother had missed in his absence.

From the other side of the doorway, Reborn also let out what any would recognize as a sigh of relief.

* * *

A/N: It's been a while, yeah? This chapter was going to be longer, but that was just such a great stopping point in my opinion... So anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please review!


	10. Chapter 10

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn. I do, however, own the name 'Eyeshield 27'.

* * *

Sena woke up slowly, feeling warm and content. His chest felt a little heavy, but a little voice whispered in the back of his sleep-fuzzy mind whispered that it was alright since yesterday had been such a trying day, both physically and emotionally. He opened his eyes fractionally - he was only half committed to the idea of getting up - when his vision was filled with black. It was neither the wispy, insubstantial black of the night, nor the solid black he envisioned when he closed his eyes. No. This black was fluid and thick, like ink. And it was the only thing he saw, as if he were drowning in it. Needless to say, Sena panicked.

"A-ah!" Sena cried out softly, and threw himself away from the darkness. He found surprisingly little resistance to his hasty retreat; however, and pushed himself a little too far, as evidenced by his painful decent to the hard wood floor next to the bed. Sena struggled a little, his legs firmly wrapped in the sheets, as he attempted to find out what startled him out of the plush bed.

Sena cautiously peered over the edge of the bed, carefully scanning for the mysterious darkness.

"Good. You're awake. Meet me downstairs in ten." Reborn loomed over Sena from his superior perch on the bed and smirked cheerfully. His mornings just weren't complete anymore without terrifying a brunet.

Sena frowned at the cruel wake-up call. "Reborn-kun, that wasn't very nice." He started to scold, but was cut off by the hitman carelessly strolling the length of the bed, hopping down to the dark brown wooden floor, and proceeding and out the door. Sena shook his head in exasperation and turned his attention to the room. He hadn't noticed last night – indeed he had done well to even make it to the bed – but the room was better than well appointed. The large bed seemed to exceed royal status and could have accommodated three easily and comfortably. He smiled ruefully and tried to kick the treacherous – but oh, so soft – sheets from their binding grip around his legs.

The hardwood floor beneath him glowed in the midmorning sun, darkened with age, but lovingly cared for and dust-free. The windows were large, but with multiple small panes of glass held in place by wrought-iron vines. They looked heavy, and strained themselves against the weight of being propped open to let in the early April breeze and birdsong.

He distantly took in the creamy walls and exquisite (he was sure) paintings, but had lost interest in anything other than finding the door Reborn-kun had come out of last night.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Sena let out a sigh of relief as he washed his hands and absently noted that the master bathroom was as well appointed as the rest of the sumptuous house. In white marble and gold – Sena was no judge of whether or not it was real gold – the room blended beauty and comfort, with a large, sunken bath for soaking and two separate showers, following the Italian/Japanese hybrid theme of the sumptuous house. The only thing out of place was the white metal box with a red cross sitting out on the counter, containing piles of snowy white gauze and brown glass bottles of antiseptic.

He stared at them in confusion. Did Reborn-kun leave the supplies out for him and Tsuna? That didn't sound like the hitman his little brother had described to him last night… Sena smiled to himself slightly, he knew his little brother; Tsuna wasn't prone to fits of exaggeration, but maybe Reborn-kun had a bit of a soft side after all.

Sena dropped gracelessly onto the small, white bench (which seemed to be strategically placed for just such usage) with a grunt, and carefully peeled off his tattered jeans to get to his scabbed over knees. He grimaced more than a little when he felt scraps of fabric clinging to the clotted blood, but he knew if there was one thing true about himself after years of bullies and American football, it was that he could take pain. He let out a muffled squeak/cry as a particularly stubborn strand of jean managed to pull off a whole scab. _'Well, kinda.'_ He reflected as his attempt at a smile turned out waver-y.

As the footballer cleaned his knees, he also carefully stretched them, trying not to put too much pressure on the bloodied joints, but also burning with the need to know the extent of the damage; he needed to know if his running would be impaired in the least. He winced and _didn't_ sniffle at all, but also didn't feel the burning ache that he felt during the Death March, only the sharp pain of a flesh-wound. He wrapped his knees with the gauze and taped it down before pulling off his shirt to check his bruises in the mirror.

He ran his hand down the opposing arm and smiled wryly. You'd think an American football player would be tough and muscled, but - as a running back - the majority of his muscles were along his legs, and even those were slim. He'd definitely gained some arm strength dodging, diving, and trying to push foes away in the middle of a dash, but the famous Eyeshield 21 had resigned himself to never having the upper-body strength of his rival, Shin.

'_At least,'_ He sighed wistfully, letting his gaze rake down his barely-there chest definition to his 'golden legs', _'At least some part of me is muscled.'_ His runner's legs were probably his best source of self-confidence. Sleek and slim, his legs were hard but supple; bone and muscle, skin and sinew working in perfect harmony to bring him to the speed of light.

Sena shook his head, batting away the annoyingly athletic thoughts as his stomach grumbled. The complaint reminded him that he hadn't eaten since Hiruma-san's impromptu festival on Deimon's grounds before the game.

He thoughtfully packed up all the medical supplies, and wished he could replace what he had used. With a stretch and a groan, Sena reluctantly donned his filthy clothes from the day before, and made his way out of the lavish bathroom. He glanced over to the bed where his little brother should have still been sleeping and froze.

Having grown up with Tsuna, Sena had seen his brother at his youngest and cutest. Seeing Tsuna completely wiped out and dead to the world, though, was just freaking adorable. Sena changed his mind, and instead of heading for the door, he made his way to his lightly-snoring brother. With a slight smile, Sena studied the younger boy; his best friend and brother. Tsuna was just as scrawny as he was, but now that Tsuna had told him about Reborn-kun's Spartan training, Sena could finally pick out those subtle but present signs of a toned physical body.

With considerably more grace than in the bathroom, Sena sunk down to the hardwood floor and drew one leg up to his chest. He leaned both arms on the bed, and used one to prop up his chin while he scrutinized his too-cute-to-be-allowed brother. It amazed him that his baby brother was enveloped in the do-or-die world of organized crime. Half out of curiosity, and half out of mischief, Sena poked at Tsuna's smooth cheeks, unmarred by stubble and still slightly rounded with baby fat. Tsuna whined a little and rolled so he was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, completely sprawled.

"Greedy," Sena muttered, his soft brown eyes shining with amusement. "What if I'd still been asleep? Would you still have taken the whole bed?" Suddenly, an idea flashed across his mind, quick as a flash, and undoubtedly wicked. He grinned widely, and stood up to dig into the small nightstand closest to him.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Grinning like the cat that had caught the canary, Sena looped one arm easily over his groggy (but suspicious) little brother's shoulders.

"Sena-nii, don't lean on me while we're walking down the stairs, we'll fall." Tsuna grumbled, more for the sake of grumbling at his too-cheerful brother than because he was concerned about a fall.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Sena grinned back.

A vein ticked over Tsuna's eye. He wasn't sure whether to be leery or just exasperated by Sena's smile, but either way, that grin was starting to piss him off.

They reached the bottom of the staircase and paused. As good as finding breakfast sounded, Sena-nii obviously hadn't scouted the layout of the house before waking him up.

"Which way, do you suppose?" Sena mused more to himself than to the middle schooler, but Tsuna deigned to answer anyway.

"I have an idea."

Sena looked over in interest.

"You find the kitchen, I'll go back to bed, and you can bring me breakfast in bed." Tsuna suggested helpfully.

Sena had the nerve to laugh. "Nice try. What do you think? Left or right?"

"Left," Tsuna grunted.

"Right it is!" Sena chirped.

"Seriously, why are you so awake?" Tsuna complained as he was drug behind his brother. "It looks like _someone _drank a big bottle of chipper this morning."

Sena ignored him, his grin not diminishing one watt, and continued dragging his little brother in the chosen direction. "See, you always choose the exact opposite of the right direction~! I knew we'd find the kitchen in no time!"

Tsuna rolled his eyes and pulled his arm free of Sena's grip to sit next to where Reborn was reading a newspaper, in a language that didn't look Japanese, at the counter.

"Just for that, I'll let you make us breakfast." Tsuna joked, imperially.

"Haha, like I could cook!" Sena replied from where he'd been all but swallowed by the refrigerator. "Look," He emerged from the fridge, "Fresh fruit! It looks good, but does that mean someone still lives here?" He tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"Didn't no-good Tsuna tell you about the safe house?" Reborn folded up his paper, and looked at Tsuna significantly.

Tsuna flushed brilliantly and squirmed a little in his seat. "I barely know what a safe house is! Don't act like it was my idea to be the 10th!" He protested vehemently.

Reborn's black eyes glimmered. "Some coffee would be nice." He remarked to the room, before turning to where Sena was setting out his hard-won (those cupboards were _deep!_) dishes and silverware for the fruit. He ignored a grumbling Tsuna, turning to said cupboards trying to find coffee for the intimidatingly shiny espresso machine.

"As I was saying, this is a Vongola safe house – you do know what a safe house is, don't you?" Reborn cut himself off and asked Sena for confirmation sharply.

Sena nodded mutely, more concentrated by the baby-hitman's words than the fruit he'd been drooling over before. "In theory, yeah. It's a house… people…" Sena couldn't quite bring himself to imply 'mafia', "Use when they need somewhere to lay low, or recover when a plan goes awry, right?" He leaned on the counter, as if he wanted to get closer to Reborn, and thereby verify his explanation.

Reborn smirked knowingly at Sena's stumble, but nodded. "See, _Tsu-kun_? Even your big brother knows what a safe house is." His smirk grew when Tsuna grumbled inaudibly at Reborn's poke at both his childhood nickname and intelligence. "As I was saying, again, a _Vongola_ safe house is somewhat better appointed than a normal safe house. That includes, usually, full time keepers to look over the house. Seeing as Japan hasn't been a major base of operations for a while, this house is being run at bare-bones level. Housekeepers check in every two or three days. They always bring fresh food and do a thorough cleaning. If no activity is detected in that time, the food goes back to the keepers and their families."

Sena, however, seemed to miss most of Reborn's words. His eyes were wide and shocked, and jaw completely dropped. "This… Is bare-bones?" Sena managed to squeak out. He recalled the marble and gold bathroom, the bed for three, and just one glance around the kitchen in black granite and chrome…

"Well, the house can also be used to entertain visiting dignitaries." Reborn offered with false modesty.

Sena jolted out of his stupor as the intimidatingly shiny espresso maker whistled shrilly. He was still dazed, however, as he heard Tsuna rattling around, looking for cups.

"So what do you think of the mafia, Sena-kun? Are you ready to join?" Reborn reclined back in his high-backed barstool and crossed his short legs leisurely, looking for all the world like a spider inviting a fly into his parlor.

Tsuna banged the cup onto the counter loudly. Sena winced and covertly checked the cup for cracks.

"REBORN! You can't just casually invite him into organized crime!" Tsuna protested loudly.

"And why not?" Reborn argued. "He'd be useful - I guess - if we trained him up." He smiled cruelly.

Tears flowed from Tsuna's eyes freely. "You can't be serious! He's my brother!" He whined.

'Love for life, drive for light ultramarine colored sky / Cry for fight, smile for bright let's cut through it / Love for life, drive for light I think I see tomorrow / Cry for fight, smile for bright shaking your heads.'

Both Tsuna and Reborn paused and turned their heads (completely in sync, Sena distantly noticed) to look at the footballer.

Sena froze for a minute in sheer confusion. Then he stared down at the pineapple as if it were the source of the mysterious music.

"Oh! My phone!" It dawned on Sena, and he stabbed the spoon into the innocent pineapple as he dug for his cell, still tucked away in his tattered jeans pocket. "Excuse me for a minute." He offered politely, as he stepped out of the kitchen to the hallway.

Reborn looked after his retreating prey sourly. "You know, stupid Tsuna, I think I'll take cream in my coffee this morning."

Tsuna's jaw dropped. "You never take anything in your coffee!"

"Are _you_ telling _me_ what _I_ like, no-good Tsuna?" The tiny hitman inquired while Leon started morphing ambiguously.

"Fine, fine," Tsuna's knees trembled and his teeth chattered in fear, but he made his way to the gleaming chrome refrigerator. He paused, catching his reflection in the corner of his eye.

"SENA-NII!"

Sena poked his head back into the kitchen from the hallway, his cell phone pressed against his shoulder. "Yeah, Tsu-kun?" He asked, too innocently.

"What did you do to _my face_!?" Tsuna demanded, torn between outrage and tears.

Sena snickered a little to himself, "Made improvements?" He offered, mock helpfully.

"You – You stupid jerk!" Tsuna reared up indignantly.

"No, I quite agree." Reborn chimed in from around his espresso at the bar. "The mustache in particular is rather dashing." He smirked.

Sena grinned widely. "Yes, I rather thought so too. By the way, it's Gokudera-kun on the line. He wants to know what happened last night; why we didn't go home."

"Gokudera?" All the anger drained out of Tsuna as he froze in horror at the name of his self-proclaimed 'right-hand man.' If Gokudera knew about the fight, he'd go on a rampage!

Sena watched the blood drain out of his little brother's face and, for the first time that morning, took pity on him. "Hey, don't worry about it, alright? I'll tell him about the fight and make sure to down play it. You just go ahead and eat something, okay?"

Tsuna gave him a weak smile and sat back down next to Reborn. He was still a little too jittery to eat, terrified that Sena would say the wrong thing, but certain that if he himself tried it would completely fail. He sat at the counter, numbly staring down at the breakfast that Sena dished out for him, and wondered if he'd have to alert city officials about the upcoming damage to the city's infrastructure caused by a pissed off bomber. He heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his head onto his folded arms on the bar. The morning had barely started and the tenth generation leader of the Vongola was already exhausted. He tilted his head and listened for Sena's excuse.

"Yeah, we had a bit of a run in with that guy at the arcade, but Tsu-kun took care of most of them. Yeah, it wasn't really an issue, he took them down pretty easily, just what you'd expect of the head of the Vongola," Sena paused to wink at Tsuna, who just pouted. He still wasn't that happy that Sena knew. But when Sena's face twisted in confusion, Tsuna propped his head up a little higher.

"No, no, Gokudera-kun, Tsu-kun told me last night. You _know_ what he told me!" The confusion had melted away into frustration, and Tsuna unthinkingly stretched his palm out to Sena, silently asking for the phone to straighten things out.

Sena gave him a weird look before turning back to the phone. "One second, Gokudera-kun, Tsu-kun wants to talk to you." Without listening for a response, Sena wordlessly handed his cell over.

Tsuna stared at it for a minute, as if he were confused as to how he'd gotten it in his possession. He lifted it hesitantly up to his ear, "Hello?" He questioned slowly, as if he had no idea who was on the other line.

"TENTH! HE KNOWS! HE KNOWS TOO MUCH! WHAT SHOULD WE DO? WHAT WOULD REBORN-SAN DO?!" Gokudera all but screamed into the phone, fully in panic mode.

Sena, from the other side of the island, looked as though he couldn't decide on an appropriate emotional response to Gokudera's very audible breakdown. Tsuna saw amusement, shock, fear, and exasperation warring for supremacy, before he settled on a half-smile of exasperated bemusement. Sena shot a look over to Reborn, as if he were silently asking why Gokudera would be so panicked.

Reborn didn't break the silence that had fallen on the trio aside from the worried yelling still emanating from the phone, instead responding with a look of half pride, half indifference. If Sena could read Reborn half as well as Tsuna had learned to, he'd see the pride was for how dedicated Gokudera was to the family, and the indifference was, well, was because Rebore didn't really _care_ what Sena thought about the situation. It all would come down to what Tsuna said to the yelling 'Smoking Bomb Hayato'. They both turned to look at Tsuna.

"Ummm…" Tsuna grasped for words. He really wasn't ready to talk yet (he thought he'd let Gokudera yell some more to give him time to gather his thoughts) but he could almost _feel_ the weight of Reborn and Sena-nii's gazes on him, wanting to see how he'd sort out the situation.

Gokudera instantly fell silent, ready for orders from his boss.

Tsuna cleared his throat and tried again. "Umm, it's alright that Sena-nii knows. I told him." The line stayed ominously quiet. "Er… During the, well… Fight, I guess, last night, Reborn had to shoot me into Dying Will mode." Tsuna trailed off, wondering if that'd be enough to satisfy his friend. "And, well, we kinda had to go to a safe house…? To rest." He stumbled through an explanation.

"Hey, is everything alright? The yelling _stopped_." Joked a jovial voice from the other line.

Tsuna furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is… Is that Yamamoto's _dad_?" He asked incredulously.

"Erm…" Tsuna could almost _see_ Gokudera's blush from here. "After Sena-senpai's asshole friends dragged us out, that baseball idiot's dad told me it was too late to head home on my own, and said he wanted help planning anyway." Gokudera sounded petulant.

"Sorry I wasn't there to help…?" Tsuna hoped he chosen the right direction to try to steer the conversation.

Instantly, Gokudera seemed to perk back up. "Oh, there's no need to apologize to _me_, Tenth!" Tsuna imagined him grinning and rubbing the back of his head, "At least they fed me!"

"What were you helping plan for?" Tsuna silently congratulated himself for moving out of the stormy waters of the previous conversation.

But like so many points in Tsuna's life, brief moments of calm were just his decent from the frying pan on his way to the fire.

Gokudera grumbled to himself inaudibly before answering. "It's that baseball-idiot's birthday in a week or three," '_That's quite a gap, Gokudera!_' Tsuna cried to himself. "So the idiot's dad wanted to throw him a surprise party." He ended with a grunt.

"O-oh, I see." Tsuna really had nothing to say to that.

"I knew you'd understand, Tenth!" Gokudera gushed happily.

'_Understand what, exactly?_' Tsuna wondered, but kept it to himself. "So, uh, when is Yamamoto's party?" He asked for the sake of the conversation.

"It's at the end of the week." Gokudera responded carelessly.

'_So soon?!_' Tsuna's eyes bugged out in shock.

"Haha, Tsu-kun's making such a weird face!" Sena laughed carelessly.

"You should see the faces he makes when I'm training him." Reborn smirked, matching Sena's teasing gaze, and developing a demonic rapport (at least, that's how Tsuna was feeling, as he faced the predatory smirks, their wearers ready to bully him).

"… Gokudera-kun, I'm going to hang up now and back out of the kitchen very slowly." Tsuna told him quietly; worried they'd catch wind of his escape.

"Isn't that cute!" Sena grinned at his temporary ally, "He's trying to outrun Eyeshield 21 and the world's greatest hitman!"

Reborn's evil smirk sent chills down Tsuna's spine. "Run, Run silly Tsuna, if you think it will do you any good!"

Sena snickered to himself at his brother's quickly retreating back and stole his seat next to the hitman. He reached over to grab his cell from the other end of the island and frowned down at the fruit Tsuna had left untouched. He lifted the phone to his ear to make sure Gokudera-kun wasn't still waiting for Tsuna to keep talking, but only caught the ending 'click' of the line disconnecting. Absently, he flipped his phone open and shut as he confided to Reborn. "Sometimes, I worry I tease him too much. But he's just so cute that it's hard not to!"

Reborn smirked and nodded. Bullying Tsuna was one of his favorite parts of the day too.

"It's so weird to think of that adorable little crybaby leading one of the most influential mafia families in the world, you know?" Sena was more focused of the phone opening and shutting than the fact he was confiding in a baby hitman.

Reborn sighed a little in agreement. "They grow up so fast now-a-days. But don't you wish there were someone to look out for him in an environment like that? He's going to need serious support, and I can't always be there for him," Reborn's eyes were shadowed by the brim of his fedora, and his mouth was a flat line, making him completely unreadable to the high schooler. His hands, like Sena's were still fidgeting, moving deftly with the shape-changing chameleon running around Reborn's twisting and turning knuckles.

Sena turned to face the baby head on. "Doesn't he have guardians for that?" He asked, his protective older brother hackles rising.

"In some ways yes," Sena watched Leon scamper desperately to keep up with the rotation of the tiny wrist, "And in some ways no."

Sena's face was a mask of confusion and exasperation. "Um?" He asked eloquently.

"Well," Reborn's face seemed oddly… Satisfied? "He does have guardians, but he needs someone by his side, someone to advise him when he's too close to a situation."

Sena looked entranced, completely enthralled with Reborn's words. He set his phone down carefully on the counter in front of him, for the first time in the conversation giving his full and undivided attention to the world's greatest hitman. Reborn opened his mouth, but was quickly cut off.

"SUPER TSUNA COUNTER-ATTACK!"

Whatever Sena had been planning to tell Reborn was lost to time as Tsuna burst in the kitchen with the shaken up soda that he'd managed to secret out after he saw his reflection in the chrome refrigerator. He quickly pulled the tab and soaked his big brother, satisfied with his vengeance for the morning's teasing, but vaguely disappointed that Reborn was quite effectively using Sena as a human shield, avoiding the spray. He laughed loudly in delight, seeing Sena's dismayed face. Slowly, as the carbonation ran out on Tsuna's makeshift weapon, Sena's dismay morphed into a toothy grin. Slowly, Sena stood up from his chair, malicious intent oozing from every pore.

They both froze, however, when _killing_ intent washed over them. They turned to where Reborn was sitting in frosty silence and exchanged a look of abject confusion as to what had pissed off the toddler so badly.

"Well, since Tsu-kun so _thoughtfully_ interpreted out nice chat, I guess I'll be leaving." He proclaimed in a grandiose manner, and stalked out of the kitchen in what would have been a much more kingly manner had his legs been longer, but managed to impress the boys anyway.

"W-Wait!" Tsuna protested after he'd managed to shake himself out of the stupor, "You're the only one who knows the way back!"

Sena just shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Tsu-kun. I'm sure if I'm pressed I could find the way back. You just worry about cleaning up the kitchen." That malicious, toothy grin was back. "After you eat breakfast." And, apparently, so was the guardian older brother. With those words of warning, Sena departed to clean up for the day too.

Tsuna sighed and sat in Reborn's dry chair, pulling the bowl closer to him as he did so. His stomach grumbled, and he slowly set to eating. At least Reborn wouldn't be stealing his food this morning. He slowly ate, savoring the sweetness, and wonder just _why_ Reborn was so pissed off that he'd interrupted their chat. It couldn't have been anything _that_ important, Sena-nii already knew about the mafia. And Tsuna had already said he didn't want Sena-nii joining the family, so what in the world could have made his big brother look so enthralled…

Wait. Tsuna dropped his fork into the porcelain bowl with a loud clatter. Enthralled? Why would Sena-nii be _enthralled_ with what Reborn said? And why would Reborn be so upset that he'd interrupted? There was only one answer, no matter how you looked at it. Reborn was trying to seduce Sena-nii. He stared bleakly down at the floor. Bianchi had said Reborn was an infamous lover… Well, Bianchi was kinda crazy, but Reborn did confirm she was his fourth… Tsuna's mind stalled on that thought. He just wouldn't let it happen, he decided with firm resolve.

Using that resolve, he finished his pineapple, stacked the used dishes in the sink, and wiped up what he could of the soda with paper towels. Who knew cleaning a kitchen would be such hard work? '_Oh well,_' He decided, '_Reborn said they had housekeepers anyway._' He'd just finished throwing out the last soda-soaked towel when the door bell rang.

"I'll get it!" Tsuna called up the stairs as he passed by, trying to insure Sena didn't rush out of the shower on his account.

He reached the door, and found out the hard way he was _much_ too short to reach the door's peephole. Tsuna shrugged and, completely lacking a sense of danger, opened the door anyway.

BANG!

Tsuna fell backwards in shock at the loud explosion and scrambled away quickly.

A loud guffaw followed him down. "He was so excited to see daddy, he fell!"

Tsuna's head shot up and his jaw dropped in shock. "Dad?"

"That's right!" Iemitsu grinned stupidly and pointed to himself, "Daddy's back from Italy to spend time with you!"

Tsuna's eyes were wide and blank. "Not possible." He waved the thought away. "What are you really doing in Japan?"

"I brought more memos of what I've done while I was gone for us to talk over!" Iemitsu grinned brightly and held them up as proof.

Tsuna ignored his unreliable father and instead focused on where Reborn was reloading his Leon pop-gun, complete with 'BANG' flag.

"He came to pick you two up, and bring a change of clothes. Go run one up to Sena, then come right back down," He ordered.

Tsuna grumbled, but did as he was ordered. It would be nice to have clean clothes, anyway. He had cringed at wearing nothing but yesterday's boxers, but he really had no options after his shower this morning. He had looked in the dresser in the master bedroom, and in the walk-in closet, but all the wardrobe provided were too-large suits.

He skipped the last two stairs and made it to the master bedroom, where he set the bag with labeled 'Sena' in Reborn's handwriting on the bed, and knocked on the door of the master bathroom where the shower was running before yelling to his brother about the change of clothes on the bed.

Taking his own advice, Tsuna swiftly changed (though he blanched at the selection) and made his way back down to the kitchen.

"Reborn! What did you do?!" Tsuna demanded.

"Tsuna's so mature now~!" Iemitsu proclaimed with a tear in his eye.

"Stupid Tsuna, the next leader of the Vongola must look the part." Reborn grinned sadistically.

'_No way!' _Tsuna thought in complete shock. '_You just wanted to punish me for intruding on your seduction of Sena-nii!_" He looked down at the suit and tie, tailor-made and all but sewn on.

"But then why does Sena-nii have to wear a suit too?" Tsuna questioned.

"Sena. Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while. How is he doing?" Iemitsu asked with hooded eyes.

"Sena-nii? You've met him?" Tsuna answered with his own question.

"Of course I've met him! I've met all of my son's friends!" Iemitsu boomed with glee.

'_Maybe that's why I never had any friends._' Tsuna mused bleakly.

"And of course, when my friend here told me you'd found such a good candidate for outside advisor, how could I resist coming home to check for myself?" Iemitsu grinned.

"That's why you're here?!" Tsuna demanded in horror. "I told you! I won't allow it!" He threw out his arm as if barring them passage to his brother. "I don't want him swallowed up into this crazy life!"

"What crazy life?" A voice from behind them floated.

Tsuna and Iemitsu looked up sharply at the newest addition.

Sena, studying his tie as he walked in, missed their reactions entirely. "Ah, it's been such a long time since I've had to tie one of these, not since the Christmas Bowl after party." He mused.

"Sena, do you remember Iemitsu?' Reborn questioned neutrally.

Only then did Sena look up from the complicated knot. "Oh! Iemitsu-san! It's been a long time! Did you ever find oil at the south pole?" He questioned politely.

"Oh yes!" Iemitsu boasted shamelessly, "Millions of barrels!"

Tsuna elbowed his dad in the ribs. "Listen, let's just drop this for now and head home. I'm sure Mihae-san is wondering where Sena has gone."

Reborn shot him a look that clearly said 'this isn't over' but nodded anyway. "Let's go."

* * *

A/N: I don't really have anything to say, but in the intrest of clearing up confusion, I'm a chick. Read on to the editor's note:

E/N by Mithras151: Hello everyone. Yet again, our wonderful author has provided us, with no small amount of prodding, with a chapter to read. This is, however, the first time I will be writing an Editor Note, and hopefully not the last. I've been on hiatus myself as an author due to school, but who knows, that might end soon ;) Oh, and for the actual note, reviews are useful as they allow me to bribe, threaten, and coerce our favorite author to write more, so please do! Thank you again for reading and taking the time to review.

PS: I, Mithras151, hereby state that I am one of the few males on this site. Surprise! And no experimentation on me, please…I value all my parts.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor the characters used within. I did, however, create the name 'Eyeshield 27'.

Quiero decir 'Hola' a mis lectores de Mexico, El Salvador, Chile, República Dominicana y España. Bienvenido!

* * *

"So, why couldn't the chicken fly through the window?"

Tsuna's head hung low, and his cheeks burned with humiliation. He stared down at the street, refusing to look up at the scene his idiot father was causing. If ever Tsuna had envied the hitman's ability to vanish, it was now. For that matter, where had Reborn disappeared to?

"I don't know, Iemitsu-san, why couldn't it?" Sena went along with the horrible jokes good-naturedly.

"Because it was closed!" Iemitsu laughed boisterously.

Tsuna wished the street would just swallow him up, shutting him away from all the stares at the loud, tall, blond man.

Sena chucked indulgently at the terrible joke and turned to his brother. "Why didn't you tell me Iemitsu-san was this fun, Tsu-kun?"

Tsuna almost fell on his face at the ridiculous question. Instead he whirled on his brother angrily. "You call this fun!?"

Sena smiled brightly. "Yep!"

Giving up, Tsuna dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. This was too much. His brain hurt.

Iemitsu leaned over him curiously. "What are you doing on the ground, son?"

'_Why?_' Tsuna wondered. '_Why, does my family have to be like this?_' His bleak introspection was rudely cut off by two sets of hands helping him of the street and brushing him off.

"Really, Tsu-kun, you can't just lay around in the street." Sena scolded with a smile.

"Come on, once we drop off your friend, you can lay about all you'd like." Iemitsu agreed with a matching grin.

Tsuna couldn't help but smile at their obvious affection, which shined through even their teasing. '_Then again,_' Tsuna decided, '_Maybe a weird family isn't so bad._'

"You know, I've been wondering…"

Tsuna and Iemitsu turned to look at Sena.

"How am I going to explain to my parents that I went out in a tee-shirt and jeans, and came back in a suit?" Sena asked in obvious confusion.

Tsuna couldn't help it. All he managed to do was choke out "Karma!" Before dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

Sena's jaw dropped. "You little brat! You're not going to help me at all, are you?!" He demanded.

Still laughing uncontrollably, Tsuna started running down the street ahead of his brother's (mostly) playful wrath.

Sena rolled his eyes and shouted, "Running from Eyeshield 21?!" Before running after his brother.

Iemitsu just smiled and watched the boys go. He knew they shouldn't be attracting so much attention to themselves - two boys chasing each other in custom-tailored suits, escorted by a tall blond man - but watching them chase each other and just enjoy the sunny morning, he couldn't help his fond smile. Nana and Mihae could be so silly in their arguments, but he was glad the boys had stayed friends.

[]o[]O[]o[]

"Thanks for escorting me all the way home, Iemitsu-san." Sena bowed politely, his face still slightly flushed from impromptu game of tag (run at about a quarter-speed) with his little brother. With a smile that hadn't had the opportunity to fade yet, he ruffled Tsuna's hair and headed inside, ignoring said boy's half-scowl and attempt to fix his hair.

Tsuna and Iemitsu watched Sena enter the house and returned his wave before he shut the door. After the door closed, and Sena was firmly and safely enclosed in his family home, Iemitsu and Tsuna still lingered, the pair neither ready to head home, nor really having any idea what to do with 'father-son bonding time'.

"I know, Tsuna!" Iemitsu boomed out excitedly, rending the awkward silence that had blanketed the moment. "Let's go to the arcade together! Just Tsuna and daddy!" He grinned hugely at his brilliant idea.

Tsuna let out a heavy sigh and started trudging back home.

Iemitsu's jaw dropped. "You don't want to spend time with your dad? I thought the arcade was where all the kids went, these days!" He protested, his voice filled with over-exaggerated hurt and confusion.

Tsuna kept walking.

"Then it's decided! We'll go to daddy's favorite bar!" Iemitsu preened at his brilliance.

"I'm underage, so… No." Tsuna rejected, mind more on the half-familiar streets than his father's weird attempts to spend time together.

"Hey!"

Tsuna looked just as startled as Iemitsu that he'd said anything. Feeling the heavy weight of his dad's questioning gaze, Tsuna broke and explained his outcry.

"I… Think that's the park Sena-nii and I used to play at when we were kids… Maybe…" Tsuna pointed ahead weakly and trailed off, feeling awkward and uncertain.

Imetsu's eyes, however, lit up. "Come on, come on then!" He grabbed his son's hand and dragged him to the not so distant park. Tsuna was inexpressibly grateful for the empty street; he could scarcely imagine the reaction of a passerby to what would have looked like a strange foreigner dragging him off for parts unknown. Then again, maybe it was more like it seemed than he'd originally thought, Tsuna decided as his dad 'gently' shoved him onto a park bench.

"Don't move!" Iemitsu commanded, as if addressing his favorite pet dog. Sure, there was love, but there was also the steal backing of one that expected to be obeyed.

Tsuna was torn between mortification and intimidation. Who knew his goofy father could be so commanding? The middle schooler sprawled his arms along the back of the bench and let his head flop back. Well, whatever, he had some time to waste. Suddenly, he felt a localized cold spot on the side of his neck. Tsuna felt the air rush out of his chest in a startled yelp and unconsciously jerked away from the sensation.

With the cold away from his skin, Tsuna was able to process the loud snickers and the outstretched can of juice. Tsuna glared briefly at his father and snatched the offering away from his stupid dad.

Iemitsu, ignoring the look his son gave him, nudged Tsuna's leg with his own, a nonverbal 'move over and sit up properly' that all parents seem to have perfected.

Tsuna rolled his eyes and covered his obedience with his desire to open the juice. In an attempt to maintain at least _some_ of his 'I don't want to be here, I'm just humoring you' attitude, Tsuna slumped down on his part of the bench, staring at the unoccupied swings in what he felt was a very grown-up pensive manner.

This, of course, caused Iemitsu to bring his can up to his lips in an attempt to hide his growing smile at how cute his son was when he was being a moody teen.

"Mom know you're home yet?" Tsuna gave up and broke the silence.

"Of course! The first thing I want to do when I get home is to see my wonderful Nana and adorable son!" Iemitsu proclaimed almost rapturously, his mind obviously wandering to a delusion riddled world where Tsuna would jump into his arms when he woke him up to go fishing early in the morning, and his lovely wife would cook their catch when father and son arrived home. Ahh, family bonding time.

Tsuna rolled his eyes yet again. "So did Reborn call you over?" He tried to casually broach the metaphorical elephant in the room named 'Organized Crime'.

"Why would I need a reason to see my adorable family?" His dad evaded happily.

Tsuna scowled and took a sip of his juice. The heir Vongola family's eyes widened, and he promptly sprayed his juice all over the ground in front of him with a sputtering cough.

"What the hell kind of juice is this!?" Tsuna demanded.

"Pepper-mango, of course." Iemitsu gave his son a weird look.

"No!" Tsuna stood up and pointed down at his still seated father dramatically, "_You're _not allowed to give _me_ a weird look! _You're _the one who bought _pepper-mango_ juice!" He cried in outrage. "What are you drinking anyway?!" Tsuna demanded, outrage melting into a form of morbid curiosity.

Iemitsu's expression hadn't changed at Tsuna's outrage and outburst. Still mildly confused at his son's reaction, he answered the inquiry as if he were answering an inquiry about the color of the sky. "Tomato milk."

"Why the hell?" The middle schooler seemed to be torn between rekindling his earlier outrage, or giving up on his moron of a father entirely. More prone to give in to the 'flight' response in a fight or flight situation anyway, Tsuna just slumped back onto the bench.

Iemitsu chuckled and patted his son on the back. "I miss too much when I'm in Italy."

Tsuna tensed in surprise. He hadn't truly expected an answer from the whimsical man.

"So when I get home, I want to eat all the foods I've missed, I want to try all the new juice flavors I can't find in Italy, and I want to spend as much time with you and your mom as I can." Iemitsu grinned widely.

"So… Why do you spend so much time in Italy?" Tsuna asked carefully, pretending to be more interested in slowly spilling the vile juice onto the sidewalk in front of him. "I mean, you're the advisor, right? Couldn't the ninth, just, call you or something when he wants advice?"

Iemitsu frowned and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He slowly twisted his can of juice can between his hands. "That's… Not _quite_ how it works. Think of it as… Checks and balances. I don't have complete veto power, but if I know something is wrong and don't tell him, then the blame falls to me, and rightly so. Timoteo doesn't _have_ to run all his decisions by me, though. Only the really big ones: like war or alliance and the like. This way, I'm mafia, and I'm not. I'm the one _associated_ with the family, but not family, and that's why the outside advisors have their own staff. We have to be strong enough to force a family head down should the need arise, but not so powerful that we become integrated into the family like the Varia task force. We need the distance to make an impartial judgment when the time comes." Iemitsu's frown deepened and he stared down at the can in his hand.

'_Huh. That's something to think about._' Tsuna decided, still trying to draw an American football out of juice on the ground in front of him. '_To be mafia, but not. That way, they'd have the protection of the family, but not nearly the danger. __I mean, just because someone works with someone else, doesn't mean that they have to belong to the same organization._' Tsuna eyes widened at the direction of his traitorous thoughts and he stood up abruptly, dropping his can.

"I'm excited for Nana's lunch too, but don't you think that was a little extreme?" Iemitsu's voice broke Tsuna out of the spell of shock and horror he'd woven himself into when he realized he had even considered making his brother his outside advisor.

"Yeah." Tsuna answered unconsciously, his voice a little shaky. "Yeah, let's just go eat lunch with mom."

[]o[]O[]o[]

Tsuna flopped face-first onto his bed with a heavy sigh. Lunch had been much more chaotic than usual, with his loser dad home. Fortunately, Reborn still hadn't surfaced from where ever it was that he'd hidden himself this time, which would have meant he could eat at a normal pace for once, except for the fact that dad was a human black-hole when it came to food. Between his father and trying to convince Lambo that it was _not_ alright to drink out of Iemitsu's cup, no matter _what _the man had let him do last time he was in Japan. (And seriously, who drinks alcohol with _lunch?!_)

Tsuna exhaled again and, with a grunt, twisted around to stare at his ceiling. He tucked his hands behind his head and dropped his elbows out. To be honest, now what he was away from the kids and his dad - not that his dad wasn't a kid - he didn't have anything to do. Usually by now, he would be chasing Lambo around, trying to get the five-year-old to stop picking on I-pin or trying to stave off a ridiculous demand for some sort of obscene form of training from his demented home tutor.

He sluggishly turned his head, catching sight of video games he'd already played, manga he'd already read, and homework that he was going to pretend he didn't see. Wait, didn't Gokudera say he was helping Yamamoto's dad plan a party? That seemed relatively calm, but interesting. '_Then again,_' Tsuna thought, as he let his eyes drift shut, '_That means I'd have to get up._'

"Silly-Tsuna!"

Tsuna sat bolt upright at his Reborn's sadistic voice echoing though the house.

"Are you ready for your punishment for interrupting important conversations?"

Sweat dripped down Tsuna's forehead as he panicked. Suddenly, Yamamoto's house didn't sound so far away.

The door was kicked in, and Tsuna was half-way through the window before he saw an afro rather than a fedora. _Perfect_.

Lambo, for his part, ignored Tsuna and started tearing the older boy's room apart looking for sweets. Not that he had ever found any, but that didn't preclude the possibility that today Tsuna might have hidden some in his socks.

"Tsuna, give me candy. Or grapes." Now that Lambo had changed his mind, choosing grapes over candy, he decided to tear Tsuna's closet apart to find a hidden refrigerator stocked with grapes that Tsuna must have secreted away in there.

"Lambo-kun." Tsuna started pulling himself back into the room upon seeing the easily-manipulated cow baby. "Didn't you just hear Reborn? He challenged you to a duel!"

Lambo stopped in the middle of his destruction. His eyes glittered with stars at the prospect of a duel with is rival. "Lambo the invincible will make him cry!" He declared as he struck a pose that Tsuna was pretty sure he'd seen on an anime Lambo had been watching last week.

The middle schooler, for all the destruction around him, still felt a cold, hard ball of guilt settle in his stomach for manipulating the child like that. That knot of guilt melted as quickly as it had been formed, however, as Lambo pulled the pin on a grenade, seeming to have forgotten that Reborn had to be in the room with him in order to fight.

Instead, Tsuna bolted. You couldn't _pay_ him to stay home this afternoon. Especially after he saw the grenade follow him down the stairs and find its way underfoot. He tumbled down the last few stairs, past Reborn, (who was frowning in confusion) and made sure he picked the explosive up when he bent down to slip into his shoes. He threw open the door and made sure to lob Lambo's grenade in the opposite direction of Yamamoto's house, down the empty street.

All things considered, today seemed like a good day to plan a surprise party.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Tsuna fidgeted on the street in front of TakeSushi. A visit to his friend's had seemed like such a good idea when he had been bored (and later, terrified) earlier in the day, but now, didn't that seem a little presumptuous? Tsuna shook his head at his own arrogance. What had he expected? To just appear at Yamamoto's doorstep and expect to be welcomed? Nervously, the short brunet wiped his sweaty palms down the front of his pants. He couldn't just go home, and he'd already made it all the way to Yamamoto's… Maybe it would be alright, just this once…

The young Vongola lost his train of thought, and along with it, the nerve that he'd be slowly gathering as a larger figure crashed into him on the way out of the restaurant.

"Hiiie! I'm so sorry! I'll just go home, don't mind me!" Tsuna cowered from where he'd been knocked to the ground.

The commotion from his feet seemed to make the larger figure finally notice that he'd crashed into someone and knocked them down.

"Oh! Tsuna-kun! What are you doing on the ground?"

"Y-Yamamoto-san!?" Tsuna looked just as surprised as the confused man looming over him. He quickly, gratefully, accepted the extended hand up and brushed his clothes off hastily.

"What are you doing out here?" Yamamoto's dad asked blankly. "Takeshi and Hayato-kun are inside."

"I – uh, well…" Now that Yamamoto-san was so matter-of-fact about his son's friend being welcome to visit, Tsuna couldn't quite bring himself to explain that he was too afraid to drop by and hang out with his son.

"Ohhh, are you still worried about your friends ditching you with the bill that one time? Don't worry about it, kids will be kids." The older man grinned and patted Tsuna on the back heartily (nearly knocking the unfortunate boy down again). "Go on in! Hayato-kun said he'd told you about the party, and I'd be glad for your input when I get back."

"Get back?" Tsuna wondered out loud, not really expecting his friend's father to respond.

"Yeah, I have a few deliveries that I didn't want to send Takeshi on while Hayato-kun was here. No big deal, I'll be back soon." Yamamoto's dad smiled reassuringly. "Why don't you go on in, they're in Takeshi's room."

"A-alright. Thank you Yamamoto-san!" Tsuna bowed politely and passed the older man to enter the store. As soon as he stepped in, Tsuna was all but ambushed by his storm guardian.

"TENTH! Are you alright!? Sena-senpai said you were attacked!" Gokudera fussed, checking the shorter boy over as well as he could without being intrusive.

"You were attacked, Tsuna?" Asked Yamamoto, stepping out from the hallway that Gokudera had probably run down when he had heard Tsuna and Yamamoto's dad talking.

"Yeah, but it wasn't that big of a deal, really." Tsuna assured, more concentrated on batting away Gokudera's hands than on Yamamoto's inquiry.

Yamamoto shrugged. "If you say so. As soon as Gokudera stops feeling you up, we can head to my room and you can tell us about it." Yamamoto grinned.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, baseball-freak?!" Gokudera hastily dropped his hands to his side and _hissed_ at Yamamoto.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I should probably tell you guys… Sena-nii knows about the mafia now." Tsuna tried his best to keep his manner nonchalant, but his entire manner was still tense. Yamamoto's teasing grin slid off his face, and Gokudera's features twisted into a frown, the silver haired bomber radiating irritation at the thought of someone else being brought into the family, and… Was that _jealousy_?

"I think you'd better start at the beginning, Tsuna." Yamamoto suggested, completely devoid of his usual good humor, and instead, choosing to face the situation with the same seriousness as he had displayed in his battle against Squalo. He motioned for his classmates and friends to follow him and turned to lead the way to his room.

"I said it wasn't a big deal," Tsuna protested weakly from the back of the haphazard line. "I mean, yeah, Reborn had to shoot me into dying-will form, and yeah, Sena had to beat up like, seven guys with a chain and a rusty pipe, but seriously! After I passed out and Sena-nii carried me to the safe house last night, everything was fine!"

"He carried you!?" Gokudera all but screeched. "No, wait, YOU PASSED OUT!?" This time, his voice hit the screeching decibel as he whirled on his boss in horror and fury that the situation had happened at all.

Yamamoto grabbed the sleeve of Gokudera's tee-shirt and dragged the raging boy behind him. "We'll talk about it once we sit down." He cut in firmly.

Tsuna dropped his head dejectedly, staring more down at the hard-wood floor than the backs of his friends leading the way. He unconsciously gripped the hem of his shirt shyly as he shuffled along slowly behind them. It had all worked out, hadn't it? Why was this only a big deal after the fact?

Before he knew it, he was standing in Yamamoto's bedroom. He froze in place, not knowing what to do, and slightly afraid of an interrogation about his uselessness and how he'd dragged one of the most popular high schoolers in the nation - and a guy they both fully respected - into the Italian mafia.

"I…" Tsuna broke off with a flush. His voice had been little more than a whispered squeak, not sounding at all like the confident tones he had been striving for.

Yamamoto, however, seemed to be perfectly able to hear that neigh-inaudible sound, because as Gokudera fumed while making himself more than perfectly at home on the baseball star's bed, Yamamoto had turned to see why Tsuna hadn't followed them farther in and made himself comfortable as well.

Yamamoto broke into his usual sunny grin, instantly saving Tsuna from the ledge of his own anxiety. "Don't worry Tsuna! We're only upset because we weren't there for you and your brother. We're not mad at you, especially for wanting to protect Sena-senpai…" Yamamoto trailed off, the sharp eyes above that cheerful smile the only sign that he was digging for information.

"Yeah, Tenth. I know you did what was best!" Gokudera reaffirmed vigorously from Yamamoto's bed, nodding his head empathically. Tsuna could almost see the stars of adoration in his eyes. While this still creeped Tsuna out, it was so purely _Gokudera_ that Tsuna dropped his arms from clasping the hem of his shirt, with which he had been shielding himself unconsciously, to a more relaxed body stance with his arms dangling at his sides.

Taking up Yamamoto's offer to sit at the small table that they usually did their homework on, Tsuna, as quickly and succinctly as he could, (which was to say: not at all) recounted the events of the night before. He detailed what happened after he and Sena had left the arcade, up until the phone call that morning (he judged the soda and face scribbling incident wouldn't help the mood any).

The room was silent. Gokudera - still commandeering most of Yamamoto's bed – was pensively smoking a cigarette, ignoring Yamamoto's exaggerated arm movements as the other boy fanned his hand in front of his face to dissipate the smoke. Athletes mustn't damage their lungs, after all.

Yamamoto, for his part, was sitting in the corner of his bed that he'd managed to procure after shoving Gokudera's sprawled legs out of the way, and narrowly avoiding a kick from said legs for his efforts. He was studying Tsuna intently, eyes devouring every nuance of Tsuna's expression, judging and carefully weighing his bosses' actions in the present as well as the night prior.

"Does this mean Sena-senpai's in the family now? What's he going to be the guardian of?" Yamamoto's intense expression finally melted away to amused curiosity.

Gokudera threw another half-hearted, easily avoidable kick at Yamamoto's head. "Don't be a bigger idiot than you can help to be, moron. Just because he knows about the family doesn't mean he has to join it. And there are no more guardian positions open, stupid." He grumbled, as he made it a point to knock his ashes into the glass Yamamoto was still drinking out of.

"I don't really want Sena-nii to join the mafia. It's way too dangerous." Tsuna told the table in front of him. "But Reborn said it would be more dangerous if he didn't. Plus there's an issue with how high-profile he is right now. I mean, both of you saw all those reporters, right? What if someone saw the stupid wristband Reborn gave him and got the wrong impression?!" Tsuna was quickly working his way up to a full panic attack.

Yamamoto's grin was back up to full wattage as he re-assured Tsuna. "Hey, we told you already, didn't we? We understand you had no other options and that this is your best alternative. Don't worry so much!"

"The moron has a point." Gokudera sat up to dip his almost burn-out cigarette butt in Yamamoto's glass and light a new one. He breathed the smoke deeply, as if he were drawing his words from the nicotine, and breathed out his words with the sigh of the released lung-full. "How else could you explain dying-will form? He's not an idiot like the kids at school." Gokudera glared down at his hands, as if he were upset that Sena wasn't oblivious. "It might be for the best to bring him into the _famiglia_." His itself tone was even, but the words themselves sounded strained, as if he were gritting his teeth while saying it.

"Listen, we don't have to resolve this now, you know?" Yamamoto chimed in carefully, attempting to be the voice of moderation. "There have been no real threats to Sena-senpai, right? So-"

"That's because it's been one day, baseball-obsessed fool!" Gokudera cut in with distain.

"So we have a little time to think this over." Yamamoto finished, as if the Storm Guardian hadn't just verbally attacked him again.

"… Yeah…" Though Tsuna answered, it was obvious he wasn't really there with them. His eyes were unfocused, staring off into space. Deep in thought, the young leader's mouth still twisted in distaste, though. He knew that sometimes the best – the only – real response to a situation was to wait and see what developed, but leaving Sena-nii to chance, (well, even if it _weren't _his brother) leaving _this situation_ to chance seemed like Gokudera lighting an ancient stick of dynomite. Sure the gunpowder may have gotten damp, or the fuse may have gotten too frayed to convey the flame to the explosives, but in the end, he was still playing with dynamite.

Teeth still grit with an unidentified emotion, Gokudera surged to his feet. With a single fluid motion he reached for, swung around, and pulled on his jacket smoothly.

The twirling of Gokudera's jacket seemed to pull Tsuna out of his reverie. "Gokudera?" Tsuna asked timidly, worried that Gokudera was upset that he wasn't considering this situation with the gravity it was due.

Gokudera's fierce expression melted minutely at his bosses' questioning glace. "I have to take care of a few things, so I'm going ahead first." He answered without really answering. The harshness was easily reinstated, however, when the bomber turned to regard his assumed rival for the right hand man possition. "So you make sure the tenth gets home properly. Even a baseball-for-brains jock like you can manage that, right?" He growled out before politely wishing his boss a good night, and stepping out.

The twist of dissatisfaction was back on Tsuna's lips.

* * *

A/N: I need to take this time to thank my anon reviews who are so awesome. But first, I'd like to ask that you all not kill me and eat my corpse for ending it like this. As Bragi151 assures me you all will. Chapter 12 is being written, pretty much as you're reading Chapter 11.

So, thank you to: Matsuokazuma, Shino, Freaky_Blaze, SisterFreaks, qty, Lelitipass25, qqsha, Inoshi, Taiyo82, Anon from chapter 10.

Remember, you can follow the updates before the update at twitter dot com backslash PocketAcesFF. Thank you for reading, (hopefully) enjoying, and please review.

Interestingly enough, reviews for a single chapter haven't broken above seventeen. I wonder if we can set a new record this time? ;) Read on to the E/N~!

E/N: Tis I, the male _Editor_ yet again (please note that while I am indeed male, I am most certainly not the architect of this story). I would implore you all to give my wonderful lady as many reviews as possible, as they will all be sources of blackmail and coercion to be used to further facilitate the coming of a new chapter. (Especially with an ending like this) In the mean time, thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn. I do, however, own the name Eyeshield 27.

See? I told you this would be quick. Well, faster than normal...

* * *

Tsuna sighed in exasperation as he tried to sneak his hand through the chaos of the breakfast table to snag a piece of toast. Sitting at the table to eat breakfast would have been stupid at best - suicidal at worst - with both an irritated Reborn and his loser of a father devouring everything around them. As it was, he thought he was going to lose a finger to Lambo's chopsticks as he retreated with his prize.

Tsuna quickly stuffed a corner of the hard-won toast in his mouth as he paused and sat on the low step of the entry way to pull his shoes on. He wasn't late (well, not as late as usual) but if he didn't get going quickly, he wouldn't be able to slip in with the rest of the 'almost-late-barely-avoiding-getting-bitten-to-death' crowd of students. Not that that helped when Hibari felt like biting them for grouping. He quickly finished off his bite of toast as he straightened up to call out to his parents that he was leaving.

"I'm – " Tsuna cut himself off as he turned around. He'd expected to see glimpses of mayhem though the kitchen door way, where everyone was still eating breakfast, but instead everyone, his mom and dad, Reborn, Bianchi, Fuuta, Lambo, and I-pin, were all packed into the hallway. It looked quite cramped and very uncomfortable to the sole middle-schooler, but judging from the soft smiles and boisterous grins (and one decidedly sadistic smirk), they seemed happy enough to scrunch together to see the young brunet off to school.

Smiling his own smile, Tsuna started over. "I'm leaving."

The smiles and grins (and unfortunately, the smirk as well) grew, and the hallway chorused back, "See you soon!"

"Make sure to hurry home, Tsuna. We have quite a lot of training to make up for, considering I so kindly gave you a weekend off." Reborn added.

Tsuna trembled and felt cold sweat bead on his brow. "Y-yeah. I'll come straight home." He suggested with the hope that the offer would mitigate the torment that would be bestowed upon him.

"You do that." Reborn dismissed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, but still too cowardly to turn his back on the hitman-come-home tutor, Tsuna felt around behind himself for the door knob, and backed through the portal once he'd managed to fumble it open. He finally managed to push the door shut in front of him and took a deep breath before bolting for the sidewalk.

When he was safely protected by the concrete wall surrounding the house, he paused and looked around the empty street. _'That's weird… Usually Gokudera and Yamamoto are here to walk with me.'_ He frowned. With a shrug, Tsuna scanned the street one more time and tried to push the ridiculous sense of disappointment welling up in him down. With a sigh – that was in no way dejected – Tsuna resigned himself to walking alone and crunched into his toast decisively as he turned towards Namimori Middle School.

"Yo, Tsuna, wait up!"

Tsuna jerked to a stop and started to choke on his toast. Coughing and sputtering, he turned to see who had addressed him.

"Yamamoto?" He finally managed despite the rasp he'd developed from his less-than-stellar eating skills and his blurred vision from the tears that had welled in his eyes at his distress.

"Woah, careful there, Tsuna." Yamamoto completed his jog to catch up with the tenth generation boss and patted him on the back (a little _too_ hard) in a lackluster attempt to help Tsuna clear his already clear throat.

Or something like that, Yamamoto just knew that that was what you were supposed to do when someone choked. Health class was _boring._

"Sorry I'm so late," The baseball star removed his hand from Tsuna's back and lifted it, along with his other arm, to fold behind his head leisurely and started wandering towards the school, trusting Tsuna to keep pace. "I was waiting for Gokudera, but he never showed so I took off without him. I figured he'd probably be waiting here. You haven't seen him have you?" He turned to regard the shorter brunet a couple steps behind.

Tsuna shook his head mutely, regarding the more-hazardous-than-it-was-worth toast. He was almost tempted to just crumble it up and scatter it, but knowing his luck, a huge flock of birds would descend upon him if he tried. With a careless shrug, he tossed it in the nearest bin and prayed an irate raccoon wouldn't share its rabies with the middle schooler in return for Tsuna sharing his breakfast. It was that kind of morning.

"No," Tsuna sighed out when he managed to bring his hand back unbitten. "I didn't even think you'd be here this morning," He admitted, finally turning his whole attention to his taller classmate.

Yamamoto frowned and let his steps falter enough so that Tsuna fell into step beside him. Just as he was opening his mouth, however, he was cut off by a familiar call.

"What are you doing delaying the tenth? What are you going to do if your tardiness causes him to be late and that psycho attacks?"

Yamamoto just laughed at the usual verbal attacks. "You were even later than me today, Gokudera," the athlete greeted.

"At least I have a reason, idiot!" Gokudera growled. Turning to the half-smiling tenth boss, Gokudera bowed his head and held out a brown wrapped package.

"Umm… Gokudera?" The smile at the other boys' antics melted off Tsuna's face, replaced by confused uncertainty.

"You, uh, mentioned that Reborn used a dying will bullet, rather than the rebuke bullet, so I thought…" Gokudera trailed off uncertainly, face stained with a persistent blush.

"Oh?" Yamamoto quirked an eyebrow with interest and plucked the package out of Tsuna's nerveless fingers.

"Hey! You bastard, that's the Tenth's!" Gokudera snapped out of any lingering shyness and charged the package-stealing idiot.

A split-second too late, Yamamoto had already unwrapped the package and let the material fall free from its previous meticulous folds.

"M-my jacket."

Both boys turned to regard Tsuna, as he stared at Gokudera's gift. With shaking hands, Tsuna reached out, and Yamamoto relinquished it.

"I hadn't even though about it. How could I forget something so important?" Tsuna's voice was almost numb as he ran his fingers over patched tears and mended seams.

"It-" Gokudera paused to clear his throat carefully. "Usually your clothing is destroyed when you use the dying will bullet. But because your jacket was unzipped, it mitigated a lot of the damage. It wasn't that hard to patch up." He looked away awkwardly.

Tsuna looked up at his right hand man with wonder in his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you, Gokudera."

Gokudera blushed harder.

"What are you waiting for, Tsuna? Try it on!" Yamamoto enthused.

"Idiot!" Gokudera replied without heat. "I just patched it, the size didn't change." He still couldn't manage to look his boss in the eyes.

Yamamoto gently lifted the beloved jacket out of Tsuna's grasp and unzipped it. He then held it open with a grin for Tsuna to slip into.

Tsuna returned the grin and did so, and hugged it to him, fingers curled around their respective sleeves and arms held close to his chest. He buried his face into the high collar (that completely covered his uniform shirt, vest, and tie) and breathed in the clean smell of laundry detergent and sunshine. Something clicked in the young Vongola 'sky' at the smell. Gokudera wouldn't have had time to line dry it, unless…

"That's why you left Yamamoto's house so early yesterday afternoon." Tsuna stated more than asked, his piercing gaze landed on Gokudera's embarrassed form as he patted his pockets down searching for his pack of cigarettes. At the motion, Tsuna saw something else he didn't need hyper-intuition to understand. "Thank you." He whispered again.

"We should get going." Gokudera answered gruffly, finding what he was looking for, but deciding against lighting up anyway.

"Yeah, we're probably going to have to make a run for it." Yamamoto agreed, completely unbothered by this revelation. "Let's go, Tsuna!" The star athlete grabbed the least athletic student in the entire school's wrist and started running.

"You baseball-idiot! Don't just abduct the Tenth!" Gokudera protested, running after the duo.

Despite the chaotic morning, despite his best friends' bickering, and despite even being dragged behind Yamamoto to avoid being bitten to death, Tsuna looked back at his storm guardian and smiled at what he saw. Genius or not, Gokudera's elaborately bandaged fingers showed that those beautify sewn seams were hard earned. Tsuna breathed in the sunshine scent once more and smiled. His once treasured gift from his brother was now doubly blessed.

[]o[]0[]o[]

Gasping and wheezing, Tsuna doubled over in an attempt to catch his breath. He was, of course, happy that they had made it onto the school grounds before the bell rang – quite a bit before it rang, truth to tell – but that didn't make his lungs plead for mercy any less.

As he was doubled over and panting, he noticed something odd. Yamamoto and Gokudera weren't bickering.

'_No – it's more than that._' He reflected, and straightened up as quickly as he could manage.

He glanced around the abnormally full courtyard of Namimori middle school. It seemed like even the early birds had chosen to linger in the enclosure, rather than head to classrooms or clubrooms. It looked like the entire school was packed in, including teachers and administrators. And they were all staring at him. Silently.

Tsuna glanced up at his guardians, wondering why they themselves hadn't broken the absolute hush that had fallen.

Yamamoto and Gokudera were standing bolt upright, and looked like they were trying to control their breathing from the desperate sprint.

'_They don't want to show weakness._' Tsuna realized dreamily, as if he were watching a semi-familiar movie while half-asleep - he noticed the details, but was curiously detached.

Tsuna's storm and rain guardians were tense - almost trembling from the intensity of the whole school's gaze – and they had, at some point, moved slightly in front of their sky, without blocking his view at all. Yamamoto's left hand was caressing the fabric of his gym bag containing his baseball bats – official game bats, practice bats, and one bat that turned into a sword when he swung it hard enough – and the other hand kept swaying back and forth, like he wanted to push Tsuna farther behind him, but changed his mind, constantly.

Gokudera for his part, already had one hand on a stick of dynamite and was twirling it over the back of his thumb, and the other hand way playing with his favorite lighter, flicking it open and shut, open and shut, on his other side.

Tsuna opened his mouth, but then closed it without a sound. He didn't trust himself not to make a greater mess of the situation.

"Sawada-san?"

Tsuna jumped a little at the voice coming from seemingly nowhere. He looked around as subtly as possible to see who'd managed to sneak up on him and two of his closest guardians. Behind him a little, on Yamamoto's side, a cute, short girl stood, blushing bashfully, and looking shocked at her own boldness in addressing the school's dead-last, no good Tsuna. Behind her a little ways, two girls stood looking determined but scared. Tsuna was sure he'd seen the three girls around before - he wasn't positive - but it seemed like they were friends of the girl that addressed him, and were cheering her on.

"Ah- You're…" Tsuna trailed off, unsure how to finish. He was sure he'd seen the girl before, but he couldn't seem to dredge up a name. Especially not with Gokudera centimeters away from lighting his favorite weapons and Yamamoto's hand on his arm, ready to shove him away at a moment's notice.

"I-It's Kurihara… We've been in the same class since first year…" The girl, Kurihara, didn't seem too bothered that Tsuna didn't recognize her. '_Which seemed appropriate_,' Tsuna thought, as he considered the fact they'd never spoken before.

"What can I do for you, Kurihara-san?" Tsuna was still a little unnerved that the whole school was watching (and for those that could manage it, listening) but gamely decided that it wouldn't do to be rude.

"I-is it true…" Kurihara trailed off, proceeding to look frustrated at her inability to ask her question. She took a big breath, and closed her eyes, arms drawing up parallel with her chest and fists clenched tightly. "IsittruethatKobayakawaSenaisyourbigbrother?"

Tsuna took a minute to puzzle that out. That minute was enough for Yamamoto to let a loud laugh, and for Gokudera to tuck away his lighter with an aggravated grumble.

"Ummmm…" Tsuna temporized as he processed the jumble. "Oh. Yeah. Sena-nii and I used to play when we were kids, and we ran across him the other day, and he invited me to his game, and he gave me a really cool jacket – well, I guess that was Hiruma-san, the team captain, but Sena-nii never asked for it back – and we went to the arcade with the team, and…" Tsuna fumbled for words as he slowly realized he couldn't talk about the mafia at school. That realization brought about the second one that he was rambling embarrassingly and that he should shut up. Now.

"Wasn't Sena-senpai cool yesterday?" Yamamoto bragged for his hero, moving his arm from Tsuna's forearm to his shoulders.

That seemed to be all the confirmation needed for the crowd to descend upon the trio demanding more information, stories, autographs, and tickets to games.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Tsuna threw his hands out in a warding gesture while protesting uselessly to no one in particular. "How do you all even know this?"

Kurihara, looking considerably less uncomfortable now that the absolute quiet had been broken, and still within hearing range of Tsuna, took it upon herself to answer.

"Your interview aired yesterday with the game, Sawada-san."

"My… Interview?" Tsuna asked himself more that her.

The two girls that were apparently never far from Kurihara jumped into the conversation from there.

"Yeah, and they showed the clip of you napping with him!" One of them chirped.

"It was soooo cute!!" The other agreed enthusiastically.

That seemed to be all Gokudera needed.

"All of you BACK THE FUCK OFF!" The volatile storm guardian demanded, shoving people out of the way.

This, unfortunately, had the opposite effect, causing students to swarm into the temporary void made by Gokudera.

Tsuna's head swam. '_I always wanted to be popular - on some level - but this is way too much!_' He cried to himself, sticking closely to his guardians who were trying to make their way out of the crowd and to the school doors.

"Oh? What do we have here?"

Tsuna froze. Around him, he could hear the cacophony of voices dying to a low mummer before fading out entirely.

The voice came from behind Tsuna and his guardians, where the crowd was minutely thinner, at the gates. The voice wasn't any louder than what was used in a group of three or four people, but no one in the packed courtyard seemed to have had a problem hearing it.

"Hi-Hibari-san." The nearest teacher stammered. "We… We were just thanking and… congratulating Sawada-kun for furthering the prestige of Namimori middle school by… By…" The teacher fumbled, losing the words that she'd been stringing together into an almost legitimate cover.

"It is not fitting for lies to fall from a teacher's lips." Hibari cut in harshly, disliking the attempted excuse. "Despite all your bleating, I'm sure you must have heard the ring of the first bell." His words were colder than the arctic winds, and twice as biting.

"Oh – ah, We, uh…" The unfortunate woman groped for an appropriate response.

"Ha-has it gotten that late already?" The basketball team's coach laughed weakly. "Off to class, off to class, now!" He made vague shooing motions to the students, who then quickly, and gratefully, dispersed.

Tsuna let out the breath he'd been holding, and moved to mingle with the crowd, hoping beyond hope that Hibari-san hadn't seen him at the center of the crowd.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gokudera Hayato, and Yamamoto Takashi will stay behind."

Tsuna thought he felt his heart stop.

"You've caused quite the disturbance, this morning, Sawada Tsunayoshi." The calculatingly malevolent amusement was back on Hibari's lips. "Grouping, disturbing the peace…" Hibari trailed off, circling the three boys predatorily.

Tsuna - once more tucked between his two guardians in a way that protected him without hindering his movements should he need to fight - trembled at the poisonously silky tone. Despite his fear, Tsuna moved forward to protest that neither of those infractions where in any way his fault. He was determined to set the record straight; until Hibari stopped dead in front of him.

Slowly, the prefect reached out one tonfa and almost delicately caught Tsuan's sleeve with it. He lifted both the weapon and Tsuna's limp arm to eyelevel.

"And not properly wearing your uniform, herbivore."

Tsuna swallowed audibly.

Fortunately, before the disciplinary committee president had bothered to disentangle his preferred method of punishment, the second warning bells rang out sharply, beckoning latecomers to class.

Hibari frowned moodily. "There is no way to protest that you did not hear this one. You two go to class. You will tell your instructor that Sawada Tsunayoshi is being detained for uniform violations."

"LIKE HELL –' Gokudera started furiously, before being cut off by a blow to the back of the head from one of the four disciplinary committee members that had joined their leader in encircling the group.

Hibari's irritation seemed to worsen as he regarded his underling. "I'm sure that you haven't misjudged your strength to the point that Gokudera Hayato would miss class." He threatened coolly.

"N-No, boss." The underling seemed scared but sure. "He'll start to wake up just outside of the classroom door."

"That's all well and good." Yamamoto cut in. "But I'm afraid I can't leave without Tsuna." He stared steadily at Hibari.

"And I'm afraid you don't have a choice." Hibari answered, blood rising at the challenge.

"Y-Yamamoto, just go. Don't make things worse." Tsuna begged, praying to whoever would listen that this would resolve itself without more loss of consciousness and hospital visits than were strictly necessary.

"You heard him." Another of Hibari's underlings jumped in. He motioned to the first one to pick up Gokudera and for the other two to flank Yamamoto. "Let's go before we're late." The henchman smiled ironically.

Yamamoto allowed himself to be marched forward, but looked back at Tsuna with a frown.

Tsuna just shook his head and shrugged. There wasn't much one could do against the mercurial prefect.

"First thing's first, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Remove the non-regulation outerwear." Hibari demanded.

"My – Oh!" Tsuna clicked the pieces together. "Sorry!" He carefully removed his lovingly mended jacket, folded it clumsily, and tucked it in his school bag. "Was there something else you wanted Hib –"

"Who is Kobayakawa Sena?" Hibari demanded. It was less of a question and more of a 'tell-me-before-my-tonfas-get-hungry-for-your-blood'.

Unfortunately, it really seemed like it just wasn't Tsuna's day. His brain froze at the completely unlikely question falling from Hibari's lips.

"I – Why do you want to know?" Tsuna asked automatically, to fill the silence that followed his mental shut-down. When he finally realized just _what _he asked to _whom_, Tsuna panicked.

"N-No! I wasn't questioning you! I was just confused! I! Please don't kill me!" The terrified mafia boss dropped to his knees in supplication.

"The groveling is superfluous, Sawada Tsunayoshi, simply answer the question." Hibari loomed over him.

"I – he – well, I guess he's… No I mean, no..." Tsuna tripped over his words, trying to figure out what Hibari was looking for. Did he want to know about Eyeshield 21? Or was he looking for Sena-nii's high school affiliation? Well, that last one couldn't be it. Hiruma-san and made it so that one couldn't think 'Eyeshield' without thinking 'Deimon'. Giving up, Tsuna reached for the one label he would always associate with Kobayakawa Sena. He looked up at his looming doom, and said plainly, "He's my brother."

Through the pain and the encroaching darkness, Tsuna knew he gave the best answer he could possibly give. He just wished the right answers weren't so painful sometimes.

[]o[]O[]o[]

After waking up to Gokudera's attempts at bandaging him and being kicked out of the infirmary by Dr. Shamal, Tsuna's day didn't get any less odd.

Every single class, the room seemed to be not-so-covertly staring at him. If he caught the person's gaze directly, the might look away for a few minutes, but the minute the brunet in question looked back to the strangely focused teacher, the eyes would find their way back. The young Mafioso wondered how Sena got though the day, if this was just his glory reflected off his younger brother.

It got even more bizarre during breaks.

The minute the teacher walked out of the room to switch classrooms, Tsuna's desk got swarmed. It took both Gokudera and Yamamoto to keep the questions and demands at bay. At least, it took both of them until the beginning of a rather tense lunch. At that point, Gokudera got a call on his cell and, apologizing profusely, left for the hallway to take it.

Hitting his first patch of good luck that day, Ryohei chose that moment to barge into Tsuna's classroom.

"TSUNA! I'M SORRY TO THE _EXTREME _I WASN'T THERE THIS MORNING!" The sun guardian thundered as he threw open the door, making the students that _just happened_ to be edging towards Tsuna's desk and accompanying defense force down by one.

"Uhhh… Don't worry about it?" Tsuna asked more than absolved. "Why don't you eat lunch with us, nii-san, rather than heading all the way back to your classroom?" The young mafia boss' offer was more like a veiled attempt at begging.

"That's the other reason I'm here." Ryohei answered, as if he was just realizing it. He rounded from Tsuna's desk near the back to his sister's in the front. "Kyoko, did you…?"

She smiled as she held up a second boxed lunch. "That sounds fun, eating together! Am I invited too, Tsuna-kun?"

Blushing and stammering, (and trying to ignore Yamamoto's teasing elbow to his ribs) Tsuna managed to force out a 'Yes! Of course!' and enjoyed a relatively peaceful lunch.

Now if he only knew what Gokudera was up to, actually answering his phone during the day rather than rolling his eyes and automatically rejecting it as was his norm, Tsuna would be almost content. Weirded out, perhaps, by the onlookers determined to hear Tsuna's small group talking about hanging out with Sena on Saturday, but rather happy overall.

* * *

A/N: Shortest chapter I've written in quite a while. Also: fastest posting! I hope you enjoyed the chaos, I know I did~.

E/N: Simple and Sweet. I hope you all enjoy the chapter as much as I did, as always, I ask that you review so that I may place added pressure on our beloved author. Thank you all very much for taking the time to read and review.


	13. Chapter 13

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn

* * *

Sena panted lightly and wiped sweat from his face as he trotted to the American football clubhouse. The team had finally returned to the before school practice schedule since having had a short break before the beginning of semester and fall tournament. The running back was a little worried that he wouldn't be up to Hiruma-san's standards in practice - considering how exhausted he had been yesterday - but the team captain's reaction Monday had just been odd. Realistically, Sena should have been facing more bullets than the rest of the team combined_,_ but instead the devilish senior had just _watched_ him, weighing and plotting. Hiruma's eyes hadn't really left his running back since he'd entered the clubhouse prior to practice the day before.

It was starting to creep Sena out.

'_But,_' Sena pondered as he rolled his shoulders to relieve tension while he walked though the clubroom to the locker room '_It's not like Hiruma-san didn't creep me out before_.' He considered with good humor and returned Yukimitsu and Komusubi's greetings before he dug for his change of clothes in his messy locker. '_He's probably just coming up with another plan to defame my name for the sake of intimidation_.' He paused in his rummaging. '_I just hope he remembers that now everyone knows who I am, and that a short second year isn't exactly intimidating, despite a colored eyeshield.'_ Shrugging off his train of thoughts, Sena grabbed the illusive clean uniform and a towel so he could head off to shower.

After a short, refreshing shower Sena toweled off and dressed quickly. He was the last one out of the showers, and knew he had to hurry if he didn't want Monta and Juumonji to leave him behind on their way to homeroom.

He had felt inexplicably guilty that the 'three brothers' had been broken up between the second year classes, but it was great to have Monta in his class this year. Plus, Komusubi, Taki, Toganou, and Kuroki usually ended up joining them for lunch anyway.

The running back dumped his wet towel in the laundry bin with a silent apology to Mamori-nee (who usually ended up doing American Football team laundry) and with a brisk walk that he tried (and failed) to make look casual quickly threw the door open to sprint after his friends if need be.

Somewhere between fortunately and unfortunately, Sena didn't have far to go to catch up with them. Instead, he slammed into Juumonji's back as the whole team crowded around the building's door, facing the school's courtyard.

"Umm?" Sena stammered out, not quite sure what to ask, but knowing this was unusual behavior, even for Deimon High School's American football club.

"Isn't that you're brother's friend, Sena-kun?" Taki leaned back over Toganou to ask.

Sena frowned in confusion and squirmed his way through the crowd of teammates to try to figure out what exactly was going on. As he reached the fringe of the small crowd and ended up next to Hiruma, Sena dropped his bag in shock. He froze in complete bewilderment, the only thought able to process though his head being, '_What in the world is Gokudera-kun doing here?_'

Sure enough, in all his delinquent glory, Gokudera was leaning against the school wall, smoking – well, chain smoking if the littered ground was any indication – and scowling at anyone who got too near to him. If the amount of 'covert' glances and muttering in the courtyard cliques were any indication, glaring and smoking weren't the worst things the middle schooler had been doing.

"Do you think he wanted my autograph badly enough to skip school?" Taki straightened up and his eyes glittered as he arbitrarily jumped to his own conclusions. "Splendid young man! Of course he knows excellence when he sees it!" The tight end proclaimed and half strode, half twirled to meet Gokudera.

"Ah-ha-ha! I shall bless you with my gentle-princely presence to your heart's content!"

"Ah! No, Taki-san, I wouldn't do that!" Sena tried to dash off after his… naïve… team mate, only to be held back by the team captain.

"Wait, I want to see what he does." Hiruma grinned toothily.

Tears streamed down Sena's face. '_That's too cruel, Hiruma-san!_' He lamented in his mind, futilely. Then again, Hiurma-san didn't know about Gokudera-kun's 'talents' like Sena did.

Sena watched in mute horror as Taki pranced up to the underclassman and pulled out a permanent marker with a practiced grace. The running back then cringed as Taki said something unintelligible and then watched Gokudera with a kind of condescending patience. Sena's horror only intensified when Gokudera fixed Taki with a brief glare and casually kicked the tight end's feet out from under him.

Without looking for approval (or checking for disapproval) Sena bolted to Taki's prone, astonished form and Gokudera's calmly smoking one. He knew that if Hiruma wanted to see more of the two's interactions, then he was going to be in major trouble during afternoon practice, but since Tsuna had told him that Gokudera's fireworks had _not, _in fact, been fireworks, Sena was a little more worried than he would have been otherwise.

"Gokudera-kun!" Sena yelled as he ran towards the duo, "Come-on-let's-talk-over-here!" He blurred out, words rushing almost as much as his feet. As he neared them, Sena shot out a hand to grab Gokudera's forearm and – caught off guard – Gokudera allowed Sena to drag him away. While running, Sena hastily drew up and discarded plans of where to take the silver-haired Italian-Japanese.

Sena ran through options as quickly as he was running through the school grounds, and his mind landed on the nearly-defunct volleyball club's clubroom. It was usually empty in the mornings, seeing as the few members were also involved in a number of other clubs and were volleyball club members in name only. In fact, if it weren't for Sena helping Mamori-nee with disciplinary club rounds when he had time, he wouldn't have had the keys to be able to enter the almost permanently locked clubroom.

Making up his mind, Sena abruptly changed directions in a nearly hairpin turn and doubled back to the hopefully empty room. As he neared the doorway he needed to enter to zip down the hall to the clubroom, Sena reached with his opposing hand for his bag to dig for his copy of the disciplinary club's keys. Upon finding his hip devoid of his school bag, Sena felt a thrill of horror run down his spine. That's right. He'd dropped it when he had seen Gokudera.

Plan completely destroyed, Sena simply stopped. He was still a distance from an entrance to the school that the volleyball club members used to use, but there seemed to be no point to continue on. Quickly, he looked around, wondering what he should do now.

Behind him, Gokudera had been shocked into silence, and was now staring at the rapid running back carelessly breaking records in a simple dash to _talk with_ _him_. With a conscious effort, Gokudera shut his mouth. He had important things to talk to Kobayakawa-senpai about, and it wouldn't do to reveal how impressed he really was. First though, where the _hell_ were they? Gokudera looked around subtly, and felt his cheeks heat up.

They were in a grassy area surrounded by mature trees on two sides, a mostly window-less wall of the school on the third side. The path that Kobayakawa-senpai had taken in getting there the only real way to approach, and one could see another approaching from quite a distance away. In short, it looked like the Tenth's older brother had taken him to his favorite make-out spot.

Gokudera's face flushed violently. How dare this – this – asshole! The Tenth's brother (the word dripped poison in his thoughts) not only abducted his boss, but Kobayakawa then abducted _him_! Hayato Gokudera, the Smoking Bomb, not only abducted, but taken to Kobayakawa's make-out spot to show off his favorite place to take advantage of his fans! Kobayakawa was the lowest of the low! Just wait 'til he told his boss about how Kobayakawa acted when he didn't have a brother or a crowd to play to.

The middle schooler was beyond furious. He was angry that he had been taken in by his upperclassman's 'good-guy' aura, – even calling him _Sena-senpai_, his internal dialogue took on a mocking lilt – angrier that he had left his boss alone with this asshole, and about to scream with rage just knowing that this _bastard_ not only knew about the familiga, but was effectively trying to take his rightful place as right hand man. Gokudera had been the first to acknowledge that Tsuna would be a great boss, – well, other than Reborn – and he was bound and determined to protect his boss, even if it was from his _former_ best friend.

He glared as the older boy seemed to be examining his surroundings with equal parts interest and confusion.

Of course, this could be an opportunity for Gokudera to report back more information to the boss. It wasn't like Kobayakawa-senpai was... ugly. He _did_ have those large brown eyes… and those pouty lips...

Gokudera blushed harder.

"I'll cut to the chase." Gokudera choked out, in an attempt to show Kobayakawa that he was in no way intimidated nor impressed. "You're not good enough to be the Tenth's right hand man." The bomber ground out, and turned on his heel to stalk away.

Gokudera felt every step reverberate up his legs, his body was tensed and ready, whether from an attack provoked by his harsh words, or by another attempt by Kobayakawa to exploit his fame.

"Gokudera-kun?"

Said boy _did not _flinch, nor deign to turn to face his upperclassman.

"Why are you wearing the Deimon uniform?"

With a huff that could have been either irritation or disappointment, Gokudera disappeared past the tree line, back into the courtyard, just as the morning bell started ringing.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Sena scratched the back of his head in both confusion and nervousness. After Gokudera-kun had left and the bell had rung, Sena was besieged by teammates that couldn't find a way to sneak any closer to the duo without being discovered. Stalling for time to process what happened himself, Sena just tried to move towards the school doorway, hoping his friends would keep pace and allow him to get to home room before it was too late. Through the chaos Sena's bag was pressed back into his hands from an anonymous source, and once they had reached the stairs, the group started breaking up.

Truthfully, Sena had thought himself in the clear; that his teammates wouldn't bother badgering him about Gokudera-kun until evening practice _at least_. But, alas, life is never so simple and Sena found himself bewildered and a little intimidated by the second-year middle school student standing at the front of a second-year high school homeroom glaring him down. The running back felt the eyes of his teammates upon him from behind and beside him, but there seemed to be no logical excuse that he could offer them, seeing as Yamakichi-sensei was currently introducing the Japanese-Italian as a transfer student, despite her obvious puzzlement about the timing of transferee.

It was plain to see that he, Juumonji, Monta, and Yamakichi-sensei weren't the only ones baffled by the 'new kid's' timing. Almost a quarter the students were studying Gokudera-kun with an almost academic interest, another quarter completely cowed by said 'transfer student's' poisonous glare, and most of the remaining half – a mostly the female half – were staring at him with mouths agape in awe and fangirlish delight.

A little selfishly, Sena sort of hoped Gokudera wouldn't be staying long; it was crowded enough during breaks and lunch without adding another fan-club attempting to sneak in and snap pictures.

But, really, there were other things to worry about. Like how Yamakichi-sensei seemed to be at an impasse due to Gokudera's odd timing. As Yamakichi-sensei looked around for an empty desk in the already filled to capacity room, it was almost visible on her face when she gave up.

"Saeki-kun, would you run to the storage closet and grab an extra chair?" Yamakichi-sensei requested to the boy nearest the door.

"We'll just have to have you share a desk until we can get a custodian to arrange the room to fit one more in." She addressed Gokudera with a sigh. "In the mean time, why don't you share with…" she trailed off and scanned though a class list looking for the one least likely to bully him, and least likely to jump his bones. "In the mean time, why don't you just share a desk with Kobayakwa-kun. He's a local celebrity, you know."

"Yeah." Gokudera replied flatly and stole Saeki's chair while he was out looking for Gokudera's. "I know." With a kind of predatorily grace, the masquerading middle schooler stalked towards Sena's spot, face set between smug amusement, and utter irritation.

Sena died a little on the inside. He just _knew_ this couldn't end well.

"G-Gokudera-kun?" Sena whispered quietly as the poor instructor picked up the chalk for the blackboard and began her lesson; despite the fact only two or three kids up front were really paying attention.

At the whisper, Gokudera withdrew his glare from his fangirls to the boy beside him, pretending to pretend to take notes so he wouldn't have to meet the bomber's eyes.

"What are you doing here? I thought you just came to deliver your message?" Sena dared in a low voice.

Gokudera _snarled_. He didn't even have the decency to snarl _quietly_, no, instead the whole classes' heads turned to look at what sounded like a rabid dog in the middle of the classroom.

Completely mortified, Sena buried his face in his arms and hoped no one would notice him beside Gokudera.

"Is there a problem over there, boys?" Yamakichi-sensei asked wearily.

Fearing the worst should Gokudera answer, Sena quickly responded. "No, sorry Yamakichi-sensei, I, uh, had something caught in my throat?" Sena tried despite the fact Gokudera still had his teeth bared and death in his eyes.

With a final disbelieving look, Yamakichi-sensei gave up and turned back around without a word. She had already assumed this class would be a lost cause when the transfer student had come in anyway.

"Let me get one thing straight;" Gokudera started as soon as the woman's back turned. "You are hereby on probation regarding your status as Vongola Familgia. I'm not here to be your best friend, I'm not here to whisper secrets and pass notes and giggle in class. So shut the hell up." He growled out.

Sena held back tears, '_But you're the one that keeps causing disruptions_!'

But, as Sena moved from his outrage and slight fear, he started to wonder a little. Probation? What was that all about? It wasn't like he'd even requested to join… If Tsuna asked, well, Tsuna was his little brother and mafia _is_ all about family.

Sena jerked a little (earning himself a dirty look from the oddly intent Italian-Japanese) as he realized just where his mind was wandering. Was he really considering joining Tsuna's mafia?

He dared a glance at the clock, and noted he still had a little over an hour before his first break. Good. He had some things to think out, and some things to talk out over break with Gokudera-kun.

[]o[]O[]o[]

"Stand."

Sena stood.

"Bow."

Sena bowed.

And with that, homeroom had ended for the morning and Sena was free to plague Gokudera for answers. Rounding on said boy, Sena opened his mouth to demand answers, determined to not let him be mobbed with girls before Sena was satisfied with what the young Mafioso meant.

Gokudera proved to be as quick as he was sly, however, when he was out the classroom door and in the hallway with his phone to his ear before Sena could turn around and before the rest of the class had even thought to question the new student.

"Gokudera-kun!" Sena called out, but that only earned him a dirty look from said boy before he left the room and an almost sinister interest from the rest of the class, seeing as their primary font of information had proved dry.

"Ko-ba-ya-ka-wa-kuuun…" The girl next to him edged closer and purred, unafraid to exploit sources and determined to find out what the footballer knew about the handsome new student.

"Yo, Sena, why is your brother's friend here?" Juumonji cut in purposefully, simultaneously shutting down the girl's question and cutting her out of the conversation.

"Yeah, that is MAX odd!" Monta agreed while approaching his best friend's desk. "I thought he went to - "

Monta's words were abruptly cut off by both Juumonji's and Sena's hands.

"I don't know much myself," Sena answered while looking at Juumonji with confused gratitude, "He told me something about Tsuna's career plans, and something about not wanting me to get in the way of said career path. It was kinda bizarre." Sena lied lamely, hoping the half-truths would help him out a little, but knowing he was fully transparent when it came right down to it.

"Uh-huh." Monta made the agreeing noise, but his voice and face were filled with disbelief as he stole Gokudera's chair and sat down next to the brunet. "You sure he just couldn't get the dashing face of his favorite running back? Monta paused to chuckle at his own pun before moving on. "He did seem to like you quite a bit at the game. He even went down to see you after you got hit."

"You mean, he caused a uproar after he broke past the security line and our team would have gotten officially penalized for unauthorized people on the sidelines if Hiruma hadn't been our team captain?" Juumonji broke in firmly.

"Yeah, that." Monta looked up at the taller boy leaning on Sena's desk with a good-natured grin.

"You're both wrong." Sena moped. "Gokudera's a good kid. He just hates me." He asserted miserably.

"Come on, now." Monta grinned and reached over to muss up Sena's already messed up hair. "What could you possibly have done between Saturday and Tuesday to get Gokudera to hate you?"

Sena dropped his head onto the desk with an audible thump.

"Alright! Let's learn some math!" The overenthusiastic instructor cheered as he strolled through the door, dragging a disgruntled Gokudera behind him. "And hopefully the rest of you know better than to make calls in the middle of the school day." He playfully scolded with a mock frown.

With a heart-felt groan, Monta threw himself out of Gokudera's chair and trudged to his own desk, dreading the inevitably confusing subject.

"Don't worry about it too much," Juumonji grunted out and patted Sena's shoulder. "If nothing else, we can talk to him after school." He finished with his special 'delinquent' smirk.

Sena let his head drop again.

[]o[]O[]o[]

The next class was torture. Not that math classes weren't normally torture, but it seemed like Gokudera-kun was glaring more and more as the day wore on. Sena normally fretted when he was called upon to provide an answer in class anyway, but with Gokudera's triumphant smirk when the running back messed up a question and his irritated sneer when Sena answered them correctly, Sena was a complete nervous wreck.

When the teacher finally dismissed them for lunch break, and Gokudera slipped out the door on his cellphone again, Sena sunk down in his seat; still trembling, but this time in relief.

"Ugh…" Monta moaned as he slumped back to Sena's desk. Did you get any of those formulas? It's like a foreign language without any way to translate it." He whined and just as he was about to plop down into Gokudera's chair, found it occupied by Juumonji. The receiver made a face at his blond friend but turned the desk and chair in front of Sena around anyway.

"Uh." Sena hesitated. He couldn't exactly tell Monta that he hadn't learned anything because he was too intimidated. He had just spent a year on the same team as Hiruma after all.

"Geeze. You two are just too dense." Juumonji teased loftily as he leaned back in his chair. It was Kuroki's turn to grab lunch for the 'brothers' so Toganou would be in shortly (with Komusubi and Taki) to help Juumonji tease Koji about it being his turn.

"I guess I might be able to help you guys, if only so we can destroy the Cupids next weekend." Juumonji rocked back on the back legs of his chair and tucked his hands behind his head.

"The cupids?" Monta snorted as he laid out his lunch so he could start eating as soon as the rest of the second years joined them. "Are you kidding me? We'll crush them with our second string. We probably won't even get off the bench."

Relaxing between the familiar banter and the football shop-talk, Sena started laying out his lunch too, and gained back enough confidence to disagree with Monta.

"You know, they probably said that about us last year. It was before your time, but you saw the videos, right? If I hadn't been such a surprise, it might have been a much closer game."

"Shut up." Both Monta and Juumonji chorused, exasperated by Sena's humility.

Sena just laughed, finally relaxing for the first time since practice let out that morning.

"Hey, have you guys taken bets on what's in Komusubi's lunch yet today?"

The trio turned to Toganou greeting them with a mock-salute with his rolled up Jump. Behind him, Taki entered the room, bowing to the remaining students as if they were greeting his appearance with cheers and applause, but his eyes didn't seem as jovial as usual… In fact, they almost seemed to scan the room before he even opened his mouth.

Now if only they could get that level of situational awareness on the field without having to destroy his self confidence.

"Not yet." Juumonji reassured as the linebacker in question walked into Sena's classroom with a three-tiered lunchbox, as was his usual. Komusubi, a big eater anyway, started to eat more after joining the American Football team because he hoped that maybe, just maybe, the calories that he didn't burn off immediately would be used to help him grow taller like his master. Because of the shortest lineman's neigh-insatiable appetite, his mother was forced to become more and more creative when packing her son's lunch. These odd combinations led to good-natured teasing, and eventually grew to the daily bets (with sweets and snacks to the winner) as to what Komusubi's mother had filled the large lunchboxes with.

Just as the Kumosubi of the Deimon chibi trio swung his lunch up onto the desk that Taki had pulled over for him, the door to the classroom was thrown open with a loud rattling crash.

Sena flinched at the noise, absolutely sure that it was Gokudera-kun back to drag him outside and demand a fight.

"Hey! You haven't started the betting yet, have you!?" Demanded an out of breath Kuroki, arms full of the 'brother's' lunch.

Sena sighed an almost inaudible sigh of relief that he was wrong, and completely ignored Toganou's confusion at his teammate's jumpiness. Letting a small smile stretch his lips, Sena silently chastised himself. His teammates were good people and better friends. He should have more faith in them; that they would have his back even against a terrorist.

"So, Sena. What's with Gokudera?" Toganou's eyes glinted mischievously behind his glasses as he took the running back's behavior as an opening for the question du jour.

Sena slumped in his seat. Maybe they weren't such good people after all, he thought, as his small smile turned wry.

[]o[]O[]o[]

The rest of the day went by in a haze, for Sena. He'd managed to deflect his friends' questions at lunch, and the normal atmosphere seemed to help Sena regain his nerves, but another three hours of class sitting next to a person who would cheerfully murder you given the chance didn't do much to maintain a lasting sense of peace within him.

Eventually, Sena just shut down and promised himself that he'd get the notes from Juumonji later. All he could really manage was to focus on what afternoon practice would be like, and to note when Gokudera left the room for breaks.

As the final class ended, Sena heaved a heavy sigh of relief. Now, Gokudera-kun will disappear with his cell phone as usual, and might even go back to his own school tomorrow instead of coming back to Deimon.

Leisurely gathering up his materials, and cheerfully looking forward to a punishing practice, Sena hummed to himself and stretched his arms above his head.

"Hey. Watch where you throw your short arms." A voice above him growled.

Sena froze mid-motion.

"What are you waiting for?" Gokudera asked impatiently. "I thought you had practice after school. Let's go already."

"Gokudera-kun?" Sena's voice was shaky, "You want to go to practice with me?"

"Yes, that is what I just implied." Gokudera rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. He started rummaging through his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "So hurry up; your idiot friends are waiting for you." He noted as he pulled out a slim stick and tucked it behind his ear for ease of access when he finally got outside. High school teachers were _brutal_ about his habit.

"Ah. Yeah." Sena agreed bleakly and hurried to pack up.

Despite Gokudera's impatient hovering, Sena managed to get his things together and make his way to Monta and Juumonji waiting at the classroom doorway with Kuroki, Toganou, Kumosubi, and Taki without too much of a delay while valiantly attempting to show no sign that Gokudera's presence at his side was in any way out of the ordinary.

Despite the first confused looks between themselves, Monta and Juumonji seemed to take Gokudera's company in stride and went back to discussing the first years and whether or not Sena's usual replacement would be moved back to third string for the Cupid's game after he fell apart last weekend.

Taki, Sena noted with amusement, seemed to be determined to regain his dignity from Gokudera, by forcing the boy to acknowledge his superiority, and decided that the best way to do it was to show off some of his more flexible 'princely' moves and brag in a loud voice.

To tell the truth, Sena was a little concerned about the developing tick in Gokudera's eyebrow, but more amused at Gokudera's suffering. If anyone deserved a full-out princely display from Taki for being a jerk, Gokudera did. It was hard to spend two years on the field with Hiruma-san without learning to savor small revenges.

As they strolled through the corridors and stairwells, Sena noticed that the little group seemed to have a larger gap around them than usual. At any given time, the people in the hallways seemed to give a slight berth to any American football player (save for the Deimon chibis – Sena and Komusubi were "too cute" and often got swarmed and Monta was just too, well, _Monta_ to intimidate) but today, their fellow students seemed to shy away completely, despite Gokudera's relatively neutral expression and Juumonji's engrossment in his conversation with the receiver. By all means, those without club activities should have been edging _closer_, if anything.

Sena puzzled it over, determined to find a decent solution before he was distracted by bullets and athleticism. He ran through the possibilities, and lit almost at once upon his earlier supposition of Hiruma-san's plan to defame his name for the sake of intimidation. Once the short running back took the time to inspect the lingering teens, however, they didn't seem to have the peculiar half-shocked half-excited look that they usually couldn't keep out of their gaze when Hiruma-san pulled a stunt. Instead, they just seemed to draw away looking slightly worried and nervous, making it that much more worrisome to Sena.

What if they had found out about why Gokudera – a middle school student – was at Deimon high school? What if they had heard Gokudera's strange declaration that Sena wasn't fit to be Tsu-kun's right hand man?

_Had_ they found out about Gokudera's ties? Hell, had they found out about _his_ ties! Eyeshield 21's little brother was the leader of the tenth generation of the Vongola family, after all.

Try as he might, Sena couldn't work up a full panic, like he normally would when he feared a secret he was keeping was discovered. Instead, Sena began to feel a little… indignant? Well, it made sense… Tsuna had to be the kindest person Sena had ever met, always there for a friend, but now would he be feared due to his lineage?

It made sense to be a little indignant. If the team and the new kid weren't being mobbed in the hallway, and the usual reasons had already been accounted for, then Sena was sure that the students were leery of Gokudera's – and therefore, Tsuna's – mafia ties. But they weren't there when Sena his favorite toy, nor when Tsuna had given him his best (stuffed) friend so his older brother would feel better. They weren't there when Tsuna cried himself sick when his dad had to go back to work, nor when the gap in Tsuna's heart turned to bitterness at his father's absence.

Sena was filled with righteous indignation, but it did not move past that. His irritation didn't take that final leap into anger. While he would frown disapprovingly to the nerve-wracked masses, he wouldn't glower at them (well, as best as Sena could ever glower, anyway), because just as it started to, a little voice in Sena's mind reminded him '_Tsu-kun is part of the mafia, after all. It really is to be expected, being involved in organized crime_.'

And just like that, those emotions drained away leaving cold analysis in place. '_Being involved in organized crime_.' He echoed back in his mind, letting the though flow slowly and heavily as he examined it. He let it lie on his tongue, (though, mindful of his audience, it stayed there) and tasted the honey-thick yet bitter-sweet consistency of them.

'_I'm not a fighter._' He mused, '_I'm not very smart. But I have my talents, and my love for my little brother. I could be useful. I could help him. I could _protect _him._'

But would it be worth it? To give up a life of respectability and normality? He silently snorted at the latter. '_I've tried fifteen _years_ of 'normality'_' He thought with contempt, '_it was _painful. _ And it's not like I'm exactly reputable right now, being associated, albeit unwillingly at first, with Hiruma-san._'

"Sena?" A voice broke into his revere.

The running back looked up from where he'd stopped walking and started examining his thoughts under the pretense of examining his shoes to where Monta was looking at him with equal parts of concern and exasperation that only a best friend could pull off. The rest of the group had stopped and were watching him as well.

"Sorry!" Sena let a little wavering smile creep across his lips. "I was trying to puzzle out why people were looking at us so oddly." Sena lied reluctantly. He hadn't wanted to give up his puzzle, but he wanted less for them to even begin to suspect what he was really dissecting in his thoughts.

"Hey, yeah!" Monta's eyes grew with dawning realization, and he turned to watch the crowd that had begun to form after Sena had stopped walking, effectively separating from his little group. "What the hell, guys!" Monta demanded with the beginnings of his fiery temper starting to show.

"What do you mean?" Toganou asked carelessly, flipping a page of his comic with unnecessary flare. "People always look at us this way." He tried for a martyr's sigh, but it was ruined by the edges of a proud smirk.

"C… Chibis!" Kumosubi declared with pride, his own condescending smirk curling his lips. Meaning, of course, 'Not us, the Deimon chibis, girls flock to us, fawningly. It's a shame that you've never experienced that.' And calmly continued down the hall.

"Huh?" Toganou demanded in outrage.

"Huuh?!" Juumonji's temper flared a bit brighter at the slight.

"Huuuh!?" Raged Kuroki, ever the hothead.

"You bastard!" They chorused and chased after him, leaving Monta, Sena, Taki, and Gokudera in their wake.

Gokudera rolled his eyes and calmly followed, continually ignoring Taki's narcissistic preening.

Monta gave the dissolving crowd a slightly disgusted look, before rounding on his best friend, his face now reading pure earnestness.

"Don't worry about those jerks, Sena, let's just go play." He grinned, and grabbed Sena's wrist briefly to pull him along and make sure he wouldn't get separated from the group again before dropping it.

Sena looked down at the small gesture with appreciation, and tried to block out that small voice in the back of his head whispering; '_If I were to protect my brother, would I have give this up?_' Or the smaller voice '_Would I be able to?_'

[]o[]O[]o[]

Gokudera flipped off the three "brothers" for glaring at him. He had been standing – not lurking – outside of the clubhouse while Kobayakawa changed with the rest of the team, and what better way to fill the time than lighting up? '_Athletes_,' Gokudera snorted in disgust and sneered at their holier-than-thou disapproval.

Really, he had been reluctant to even _let_ Kobayakawa out of his sight in such a large group of his friends. It had been different in the classroom, where there was a large group of innocents that would all to happily gossip to him if they'd heard the American football team plotting something, but with Kobayakawa in a familiar place, surrounded by colleagues, and Gokudera hadn't yet inspected the area for possible weapons. It just would have taken too much time to disable all the security cameras around the area.

The Italian-Japanese straitened up and dropped his cigarette as he noticed the rest of the team starting to file out of highly-secured clubroom/casino, lightly bantering and starting minor stretches. Absently, he reached a leg out to crush the still-smoldering butt as he tried to tell whether or not they'd planned anything with Kobayakawa while they were in there.

That was the worst move possible. That drew Hiruma's attention to him.

"Fucking octopus-head. Why are you still in the school uniform?" Hiruma asked evenly. Behind him, Monta and Taki shuddered a little. They remembered the last time the team captain had used that tone. It hadn't ended well. At all.

Gokudera arched an eyebrow, but otherwise remained silent from his relaxed position, leaning back against the wall, and crossing his arms in front of him. "Is there something else I should be wearing?" He challenged mockingly.

'The Namimori Middle School uniform?' Ran across the team's mind, almost collectively.

"There is no such thing as a spectator at a Devil Bat practice. Either leave or suit up." Hiruma swung up the formerly unnoticed firearm from its neutral resting place by his hip, up to his shoulder with an audible and intimidating 'thunk'.

Gokudera visibly fumed. He didn't want to lose this chance to observe Kobayakawa, considering how much of the upperclassman's life and personality revolved around his sport, but involving himself in practice? He scowled - almost petulantly.

Hayato Gokudera is not the type to acquiesce to demands. Nor is he the type to tip his hand about physical abilities, if he doesn't think it in his best interest. But, conversely, he's not the type to give up on a mission, self-assigned or not. He ground his teeth in frustration, but with one last glare, marched stiff-leggedly into the clubhouse, ignoring the three _bastards_ snickering.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Sena shifted his weight from leg to leg worriedly as he watched Gokudera stomp in to change.

"Hiruma-san? He doesn't even know where the spare uniforms are kept, shouldn't I go help him?" He fretted. It wasn't that he'd forgotten all the torment he'd endured at the younger boy's hands in class, but public humiliation was a completely different kettle of fish.

"Or, you could go warm-up on the field before you go jogging with Cerberus." Hiruma suggested with a deceptively mild tone. Sena could detect the deception in that the large rifle hadn't moved from Hiruma's shoulder.

Sena took a deep breath and – knowing that there was really no way out of his punishment anyway – forged on.

"It's a little cruel, Hiruma-san, to –" The brunet's words died out at his captain's visage.

Hiruma's face was set into the hard lines that were usually reserved for sink-or-swim moments in big games, and his gaze burned with something Sena couldn't _quite_ pinpoint, thought it may have been a distant cousin of his long-term plot focused glare.

Sena gave a short nod of a soldier to his commander and trotted off to the field.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Gokudera huffed and tugged at the edges of the sportswear he had found waiting for him on the team bench. 59. That meant the bleach-blond _delinquent_ wanted him to work with the bastard brothers on the line. Resolutely keeping pulling his hands away from the waistband of the too-tight pants – the delinquent team captain would _not_ get the pleasure of seeing him uncomfortable – Gokudera slid the door open and stepped out into the pleasantly warm spring afternoon sun.

He paused just outside the door, and was slightly surprised to find the immediate area deserted. He frowned as he lifted a hand to shade block the sun enough to look around for the team. He swung his other arm holding his customized '59' helmet back and forth, bumping against his leg each time while he scanned the sports fields, and tried to work through why the delinquent wouldn't leave him a guide.

Before he could get too far in his ponderings, however, he had spotted the American football teams amongst the other Deimon teams on the sports field. Gokudera rolled his eyes with a snort, realizing why he didn't have a guide; they were obscenely easy to find with the other teams giving quite a wide berth.

Gokudera haughtily strode over to them, and had made it almost half-way there before another reason occurred to him, one that made him pick up his pace out of sheer annoyance. They didn't even give a damn if he joined them or not. If the middle schooler showed up, he'd be in the way, and if he chickened out, they wouldn't have to deal with him.

Well, fuck them; it looked like Gokudera had some ass to kick… on the field.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Hiruma merely raised an eyebrow when he was approached by the silver-haired boy. He really hadn't expected the younger male to wuss out, but it certainly would have made things easier in the long run. The team captain reached over and neatly plucked a clipboard from the fucking manager's arms and flipped through it while deftly ignoring her protests.

"Well, let's see if you're of any use, first of all." Hiruma mumbled to himself, seeming to divide his attention between the clipboard and the boy. "I'm going to send you over to the fucking brothers to work on the line first. Then, even though I'd prefer not to send you to that fucking shorty, since you keep him as jumpy as a first-year, you look like you're got a bit of a runner's build, not too stocky –" He paused to scan over Gokudera's form rather intently – "Then, over to the fucking monkey first to see if you have any catching ability, finally I'll take you to see if your throwing is any better. You won't be working with the fucking goatee, since I'm slightly afraid that his idiocy is contagious." The tall blond mused and made the appropriate notes to his papers. "But we'll see what we can see."

Hiruma carelessly tossed the clipboard over his shoulder, leaving Mamori to lunge forward to catch it, yelling at his terrible manners all the while.

"Well, what are you waiting for, fucking octopus-head?" Hiruma questioned toothily.

"You to sparkle in the motherfuckin' sunshine, asshole!" Gokudera snapped out before stomping over to the closest brother.

Hiruma stared after the young Mafioso, his mouth slightly agape. He snapped it shut quickly, however, when he started hearing giggles behind him.

"Did he just call you a vampire?" Mamori laughed, her mouth covered behind the abused clipboard, but her eyes dancing in glee.

Hiruma _snarled_.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Gokudera grunted in irritation as he tried to sink to the ground on his break, but hit a bruise on his way down. Alright, maybe those three bastards were onto something when they glared him down for destroying his lungs. He wheezed as subtly as he could manage and decided that that didn't make them any less annoying, from his semi sprawl-semi propped up position. Those bastards were standing, talking, joking, chugging sports drinks, as if they hadn't just been shoving 250 pound practice dummies as if it were a stoll in the park.

Not known as a genius for nothing, Gokudera had kept his eyes on the teens' muscle as he strained against the excessively heavy training dummy. While he could admit he admire the musculature amassed by the teens, (especially compared to his own comparatively skinny biceps) he could also tell that they weren't using half of their full strength, really. It kinda made him wonder what intensive training they'd been forced to do, to get so ripped.

Still, he couldn't help but be a little gleeful. That asshat Yamamoto probably couldn't have lasted half as long as he had. Gokudera preened. Sure the other boy was an athlete, but a _wussy_ one compared to him and the team…

The middle schooler ground his teeth as he caught his last thought to examine it more thoroughly. 'Him and the team?' _Now_ he saw what that delinquent team captain was trying to do by putting him in with the group of people he got along with least at the start of practice. It was a mere inconvenience that he and the 'brothers' were feuding. All that blond had wanted was to put him in the midst of a large group that then would include him in a difficult task right away. This would foster a sense of camaraderie and of belonging in him, so that the silver-haired one would feel like he were part of the team, and would inadvertently show more of his hand than he'd intended; otherwise he'd be letting down 'his' team. Sly bastard.

Just as the Italian-Japanese settled back to chew on the thought for a while, a bullet whizzed past his head. He fought hard not to flinch, but his mafia-honed instincts were just too much to try to overcome, and he found himself face down on the ground reaching for the lighter and dynamite that he didn't have in his tight pants. From his humiliated position, Gokudera glared up that the familiarly cruel laughter.

"If you're done messing up the line's practice with your twig arms, go slow down our ace." Hiruma hadn't bothered lowering his firearm, or even concealing his blood-lustful grin.

Gokudera fumed but held his tongue, knowing now that the captain could make this experience so much worse. He could be doing flexibility exercises with Taki that made his groin ache just contemplating them.

Grumbling under his breath, Gokudera picked his way across the field to 'Sena-senpai's spot', the phrase whispered reverently by the first years. Not that Kobayakawa practiced in that area a lot, (indeed, it was rare to find him on campus at all during practice, preferring to warm up then run around town) but that was where the rope ladder was carefully stretched onto the grass that had just begun to green. No one touched senpai's drill ladder. No one. Even Gokudera who'd only had to hang out with the first years for mere _minutes_ knew that.

Which was why he made a beeline to it.

The bomber stood over the agility-increasing equipment and wondered just what the hell was so special about it. He dropped down onto his haunches to examine it more carefully. Nope; just rope and plastic rungs resting on the ground. He still had no idea why the first years where treating it like a Christian relic, or why Kobayakawa rolled it up so carefully with a tender smile - as though he were rolling up the poster of his first childhood crush. Face twisted with thwarted curiosity, Gokudera boldly reached out a hand to test the material.

And touch it he did, though not in the manner he had expected. Instead of his rough fingers running over rough polymer rope, the Italian-Japanese found himself face-planted into one of the hard plastic rungs. If that weren't humiliating enough, the source of his current predicament was apologizing profusely and attempting to pull up the heavier middle-schooler and brush him off.

Asshole.

As Gokudera had been reaching for the 'sacred rope ladder', Sena had finally gotten back onto the school grounds from his pre-practice-run warm-up jog. He was stretched out, loose, and ready for more time with the horrific Mafioso. As he had been heading back to his ladder, he'd seen Gokudera hovering over it, examining it. This, of course, thrilled Sena, as it seemed as though his underclassmen were _afraid_ of it. In the upperclassman's infinite joy at finally being able to pass on one of his most cathartic exercises, Sena hadn't noticed that Gokudera hadn't noticed him. Meaning that the moment the brunet had dropped a hand onto the silver haired boy's shoulder and started explaining how to use it properly, Gokudera tried to flinch away, and instead lost his balance and ended up diving face-first into said equipment.

Sena mourned, for the loss of a possible running back, and for the possible loss of his life.

"Let's just get this the fuck over with." Gokudera growled, shoving Sena's hands away and brushing himself off alone.

"Ah, well…" Sena faltered. He had been planning on having Gokudera train with the ladder, but for obvious reasons, that didn't sound so great anymore. "I guess we should just run, um, my regular route?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Gokudera snipped, taking any shot he could get to recover his pride.

"Uh, yeah, so… just keep up, I guess." Sena shook his head, and started towards the school gates at a mild jog. "This'll be more for stamina then speed," Sena explained to the genius behind him keeping pace.

"Whatever." Gokudera wouldn't say that he was prideful, but there was no way this weak senpai could outrun him if they were concentrated on endurance, rather than speed.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Gokudera wheezed and panted like an old man speed-walking in a mall. At least, he comforted himself, he could still see Kobayakawa's back. Even though the _absolute bastard_ was not only not out of breath, but chattering away as though his underclassman was still right beside him.

Seriously, they'd been _running_ – full out _running_ – non-stop for almost forty-five-fucking minutes, and the little bastard was still chattering away. Chattering more, even, as he checked a wristwatch he'd picked up before he'd left the school grounds. It was as if he was nervous about being late for something.

Determined to give the upperclassman a piece of his mind for _obviously_ making his running routes longer just to haze the newcomer, Gokudera took a deep breath and pushed himself, eating up as much of his remaining energy as he dared (considering they had to get back to the school somehow).

Only to narrowly avoid running into the jerk as he finally slowed.

"Ah, Shin-san, I thought we would have missed you!" Kobaykawa called out to a dark figure lurking under a large public clock outside of a park. No, correction, the figure was doing pull-ups on the barely-there rim of the large public clock.

Upon hearing the running back's voice, however, the guy – Gokudera was pretty sure he had heard 'Shin', and he was pretty sure he was one of the Oujou guys he had sat with during the Nihon game – dropped from the _ridiculous_ workout to greet his …rival? Yeah, Gokudera was pretty sure that the model had declared (or implied at least) them as rivals at the game.

"Kobayakawa."

The other athlete greeted Kobayakawa gravely – as if the damn robot did anything without heavy gravity. Gokudera would have snorted in derision if he could breathe.

"Sorry, here, I have someone for you to meet!" Kobayakawa both apologized and excused himself in one breath. It would have been more impressive if he hadn't obviously been using the Italian-Japanese as the excuse.

"Gokudera-kun is the friend of my brother, he - "

"We've met." Said boy cut him off (in a way that would have _totally_ been badass if it weren't for the fact he could _swear_ he tasted blood).

"O-oh?" Kobayakawa asked nervously.

"Indeed." Shin agreed. "I sat three seats away from and one above him at the Nihon game." Shin intoned, as though reciting a well memorized fact, rather than talking about having met someone for a little over an hour. "The fact that he is not built like an athlete would be why you are not yet halfway through your usual running course, despite it being a quarter of an hour later than you usually arrive at this spot." Shin explained, rather than bothering to question.

Too many things to process. One: This ass was implying that Gokudera was weak. Two: This ass was implying that Kobayakaya was running _slower_ than usual, just so Gokudera could keep up 'cuz _he's weak._ Three: This ass was implying that not only did Kobayakawa _not _lengthen his running route just to screw with him, but that they weren't even done yet. And finally, _Gokudera was going to kill both of these bastards in their sleep._

"Um… Yeah, so… Yeah." Kobayakawa stuttered awkwardly for words, fumbling for his dignity like a dropped ball. "I thought because it was Gokudera-kun's first practice with us, I should be careful not to burn him out. Hiruma-san will probably take care of that."

The last part was mumbled to himself, as though Kobayakawa was more thinking out loud than anything, but that didn't stop Gokudera from feeling metaphorical ice water start pumping through his veins. He'd forgotten about the blond false-devil. Kobayakawa – jerk off that he was – was actually right. He still had to work with Raimon and Hiruma. Fuck.

"So, we should get back. I wouldn't have gone this far, but I…" Kobayakawa groped around for words. "I guess I got carried away. See you later Shin-san!" The older boy call, almost half-way across the square in front of the park before Gokudera had even noticed that the running back had resumed the torture known as practice.

With a deep sigh, and a personal promise to cut back to only two packs a day, Gokudera followed.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Practice with Raimon was largely uneventful. Gokudera wasn't that great at catching, wasn't interested in learning, and wasn't impressed by the simian grace exerted by the upperclassman when he made his catches. That left him with more running. In _patterns_ this time. Bastards.

But it did eat up time, so that the sun was beginning to set on the unlighted practice field before he had to end his torture from hell with Satan… er. Hiruma.

The upperclassman appeared to have been working with two other underclassmen, by the time Gokudera had reached him. The two unfortunate first years were doubled over, dripping sweat and breathing heavily, while Hiruma surveyed them, regal as any king upon his thrown.

The bomber caught himself rolling his eyes.

"That's good enough. Thank your new scapegoat on your way to the showers." Hiruma barked and kicked at one of the boys.

Perversely; the one who had gotten kicked looked pleased. Fucked up footballers.

They both nodded to Gokudera calmly while hustling back to the clubhouse where other first years and new teammates were also heading back and doing cool-down exercises. Interestingly, all the starters were still out practicing. Hell, Gokudera hadn't even seen Kobyakawa since he'd dropped him back off on school grounds and left again.

"Well, you suck at everything else, but let's see how you throw." Hiruma observed neutrally.

Gokudera bit back a retort, instinctively knowing that the blond would use every word against him at this point, and would stretch out practice into the darkness if he felt it would trouble the middle schooler more than himself.

"Alright; first, you need to know how to hold the ball."

Though Gokudera would usually scorn such juvenile suggestions, he noticed that his own hands – while not small – definitely wouldn't fit around the widest area of the ball, where Hiruma was grasping it. Perhaps there was a certain method…?

Most of the practice was taken up by the absolute basics of American football; footwork, positioning of the throwing arm, positioning of the opposite arm (so as to not throw off your own balance), and how to hand-off without causing a fumble.

While Hiruma wasn't the type to praise, not by a long shot, his evaluating silence when Gokudera finally found the difference in weight and balance between his dynamite and the football, resulting in perfect spirals with unerring accuracy for the rest of practice, said more than words could. 'This kid could be valuable' his gaze whispered. 'He's _good_.'

Not that the bomber would forget his objective, even under the heavy weight of pleased evaluation. This was all for the good of the Tenth, he told himself when he felt a prideful blush rising on his cheeks. Not to work and play and sweat with a bunch of guys. No matter how much fun it looked.

He was harshly reminded of that objective when Kobayakawa jogged back onto the grounds, and went directly to the captain.

"Hiruma-san" He gasped, finally out of air. Gokudera noted this with equal parts sadistic amusement and, well, relief at the first sign of weakness coming from the seemingly frail upperclassman. "I didn't mean to run for so long! I'm sorry, I know it was supposed to be my day to work on the first years' agility, but I got carried away." Kobayakawa worried his lip.

Understanding dawned upon the Italian-Japanese. The Tokyo MVP wouldn't be content with a light jog for training; Kobayakawa probably re-ran his whole route, and finished it without him at a faster speed. Suddenly Gokudera felt cold; the sweat that drenched him no longer felt hard-earned, but pathetic. Like he'd been running for twenty minutes on a treadmill while Kobayakawa ran in a marathon. Their definitions of 'hard work' appeared to be the same; but in reality, Gokudera hadn't even scratched the surface.

It was oddly humbling.

"Don't worry about it." Hiruma's authoritarian voice cut through Kobayakawa-senpai's worry and Gokudera's growing self-pity. "I gave them a lecture on tactics instead. This afternoon obviously wasn't going to go according to plan the minute he," Hiruma gestured to Gokudera sprawled out on the grass, "showed up this morning. We'll just double the agility training next week." Hiruma made an awkwardly fluid movement of his shoulders, almost like a shrug, but without the usual carelessness behind the gesture. Kobayakawa-senpai wasn't _quite_ off the hook, but Hiruma wasn't mad; per se.

Gokudera wondered if it was a bad sign that he was beginning to understand the devious captain.

"Both of you go ahead and hit the showers." The blond finished.

Absently, Gokudera accepted Kobayakawa-senpai's hand up, but made extra sure to avoid the kick aimed at his ass once he was up. Fucked-up footballers.

[]o[]O[]o[]

Gokudera sat on the wooden bench in the locker room, waiting for Kobayakawa-senpai. The genius had already showered and changed, and so had most everybody else. Kobayakawa-senpai seemed to be the last, even among the starters, into the showers – excluding Hiruma in the other room, typing away. Gokudera had thought that it would be difficult to catch the running back alone to finish their conversation from this morning, seeing as senpai seemed to usually have an escort home almost every night (that's what the notes he'd gotten from …a guy he knew… said, at least) but as soon as those nine saw the underclassman slumped on the bench in the changing room, half-asleep, and with a towel draped over his head – since he didn't have the energy to actually dry his hair – they all called into Kobayakawa-senpai in the showers, one at a time, to wish him a good night and tell him they were going on ahead.

The bomber would have appreciated their consideration, if he were the type to do so.

"Oh."

Gokudera looked up at both the sound of the shower room door opening and the slightly-disappointed noise that had dropped from the brunets lips.

"I thought Gokudera-kun would have gone home by now;" Sena commented and he toweled off his slightly less gravity-defying hair, and started rummaging in his locker for his change of clothes. "It's late."

"I thought you should be made aware of the results of my assessment." Gokudera offered blandly, too tired to inject emotions into his words.

Kobayakawa-senpai whirled around, shirt in hand, eyes blazing in anger. "You're _assessment_?" The upperclassman hissed. "What makes you qualified to choose Tsuna's friends for him?" He growled. "What makes you think that I approve of _you_? You're one of the ones always dragging –" The footballer cut himself off and glanced at the door leading into the casino-esq main room where Hiruma was working. "You're one of the ones always dragging weird shit into his life." He corrected himself and pulled the shirt over his head with more force than necessary. "What if I want you to stay away from Tsuna?" Kobayakawa-senpai murmured, more to himself, as he turned away again.

Gokudera stood up to his full height, pulled the towel off his head and set it carefully on the bench before facing Sena fully. "I'm afraid you couldn't ask me to do that anymore than I could ask you to." He replied softly, and walked out.

Sena stared at his locker dazedly, wondering if he'd just passed a test, and when exactly Gokudera-kun had started referring to him with respect again.

* * *

A/N: It took forever to get out, but it's also the longest chapter I've written. I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please review. Also; new poll in my profile, please vote.

E/N: A wonderfully long chapter for the audiences, and I must admit, it was fun prodding our beloved author to action with this chapter. Everything's about to get interesting from here on out, I promise. Oh, and review, they turn our beloved author's brain to a pile of happy-go-lucky mush which makes it easier to get her to write. So please review~! Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I own neither Katekyo Hitman Reborn nor Eyeshield 21.

* * *

Tsuna yawned hugely and impatiently shoved a lock of hair back out of his eyes, making his already messy bed-head worse as he dragged himself down the stairs. He stood indecisively in the hallway outside of the warm, bright kitchen where the delicious smells wafting from the interior caused his stomach to start to rumble. The middle schooler slowly shook his head in regret, and decided he was too exhausted to join the morning battle for breakfast. If usless-Tsuna went in there this tired, even Lambo would be able to steal off his plate with ease, he concluded with a mirthless smile as he bypassed the kitchen and instead made a bee-line to his shoes in the entryway.

He eased himself down to sit at the low step separating the hardwood hallway and tiled entryway and was about to begin to pull on his beat-up tennis shoes, but he interrupted himself by yawning again. Tsuna was still really tired, having had stayed up too late reading Gokudera's dozens of emails and listening to dozens more of Gokudera's voicemails. While Tsuna could usually ignore most of what Gokudera sent him on a daily basis with a relatively clear conscience, these messages were cryptic and just plain odd, leaving the Vongola decimo to worry about the contents of said messages most of the night.

What the hell was the bomber doing 'infiltrating the suspect's territory' anyway? And could Gokudera possibly know what classes Sena-nii was having problems with? Tsuna jerked upright and froze in horror in the middle of tying his shoelaces. No. Gokudera would never… That was surely too much, even for… Tsuna frowned and pushed away the memories of Gokudera emailing Sena-nii's complete transcript to Tsuna's phone right before the last class yesterday.

Of course Gokudera was just out sick yesterday. As for Sena-nii… Gokudera and Sena-nii must have run into each other somewhere after Gokudera-kun felt well enough to go out again. Tsuna rationalized tranquilly as he tied the laces of his tennis shoes into a crude approximation of a bow and stood up to pull on his sweater. The answer was obviously something simple that he hadn't thought of yet. After all, Gokudera-kun hadn't responded to any of his emails until this morning when he had sent a message promising a full debriefing in person, so he must have felt ill and had stayed home the day before.

'Someone should tell Gokudera-kun that talking in code only works when the other party knows how to decode it,' Tsuna decided, cheerfully ignorant, and grabbed his bag. He called out his goodbye to his mom and stepped outside, ready to face another day of math and the bizarre.

"TENTH! GOOD MORNING!" Gokudera shouted, decisively shattering the tranquil restfulness of the early morning, (and further endearing the Sawadas to their neighbors, Tsuna was sure) and bowed so deeply at the waist he was facing the ground.

'So… extreme.' Tsuna's shock was colored with dark humor. "G-Good morning Gokudera-kun." Tsuna replied instead, mustering as much dignity as he could muster while his hand gripped his sweater over where he thought his heart had jumped out of his chest with one hand (the other was still scrabbling for purchase on the wall post around his house).

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to pick you up yesterday morning, Tenth." Gokudera straitened up and apologized with genuine regret, "But I was successful in my investigation!" He perked up.

"Investigation, Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna asked with mild interest while he peeled himself away from the gate, only finding the strength to do so with the promise of Gokudera _finally_ explaining himself.

"Yeah, I infiltrated the target's school yesterday, didn't you get my status reports, boss?" Gokudera demanded eagerly, his eyes shining and metaphorical tail wagging as he fell into step beside and slightly behind his boss.

'Oh. They were status reports. Well that clears that up then,' Tsuna nodded to himself, willfully ignorant to his own conclusions.

"Of course! I can't let just anyone join the _Vongola_; let alone stand beside you, boss!" Gokudera frowned to himself, as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and fished one out.

"You stalked my brother." Tsuna froze in his tracks and rounded on Gokudera in shock.

"I didn't stalk him, Tenth." Gokudera looked up, eyes wide in surprise, and mumbled from around the cigarette he had started lighting.

"You didn't?" Tsuna asked hopefully. He glanced at Gokudera's watch – a kinda weird, kinda cool-looking skull and crossbones face on a wide leather band, another gift from another gang Gokudera had beat up – and regretfully turned back around to continue walking. It was almost time to meet Yamamoto-kun.

Gokudera lit his cigarette and took a long drag before responding.

"Of course not!" Gokudera protested, "I was doing surveillance on a potential candidate, and on the candidate's associates. It would seem that he's somewhat acceptable, depending on where you would like to place him in the family. Of, course, I'd recommend additional training if you plan to use him in battle." Gokudera glanced down at the cigarette that he'd been carrying at his side as he had been talking and walking, and a look something akin surprise crossed his face. He smiled ruefully and dropped it (surprising Tsuna, for it was only half smoked), crushing it as he followed behind Tsuna.

"I am still a little concerned, though, Tenth. You know the only people Kobayakawa-san hangs out with, even in school, are those American football guys?" Gokudera scowled. "And they're all sadists, especially when they have someone new to play with during practice."

Suddenly, the meaning behind the cryptic text about the 'target's physique' became painfully clear "I am _never_ going to live this down." Tsuna whispered in quiet disbelief, and froze unintentionally at the street corner where Yamamoto usually met them, if he didn't walk with Gokudera to pick up Tsuna.

Gokudera frowned at his boss' displeasure. It was probably his fault the Tenth was so upset. Obviously, he wasn't making himself clear enough; otherwise the future leader of the tenth generation of the Vongola wouldn't be so upset.

"Don't you see, boss?" Gokudera supplicated, "I can't let just anyone into the strongest mafia family in the history of _ever_, not even if he's your brother. He's has to be strong enough to protect you, even if he isn't a guardian."

Pushed past even the limits of his good nature, Tsuna whirled on Gokudera angrily. "I don't even want-!"

Tsuna was cut off by Yamamoto rounding the corner crashing into him.

"Sorry, sorry, my bad." Yamamoto doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting, and pressed out the apology between heavy breaths from his sprint. Once he had noticed he had knocked Tsuna down, he grinned sheepishly and offered a hand up. "I heard yelling, and I thought you were upset I was late." The baseball fanatic explained apologetically.

"You careless bastard!" Gokudera raged, despite the fact he was completely ignored by the duo brushing Tsuna off and checking for injuries.

"Hey, Tsuna, you forgot your lunch again today, right?" Yamamoto asked with a huge grin to take the bite out of his words once he had made sure Tsuna wasn't bleeding.

Still slightly shaken from the high-speed collision, Tsuna looked down at his hands as though a lunch box would appear. Upon finding nothing more than his school bag, and realizing how foolish he looked even checking, he shook his head self-deprecatingly.

"That's right," Tsuna's smile was a mix between bitterness and embarrassment. "I skipped breakfast this morning, and didn't even step into the kitchen."

Tsuna and Yamamoto pretended they didn't hear the subject of Gokudera's rant change from Yamamoto's carelessness to Lambo's greediness.

"Great!" Yamamoto cheered, causing the other two to look at him oddly. Yamamoto paid them no mind, and instead grabbed the sleeve of Tsuna's sweater to turn him around and pull him along briefly before dropping it once he was sure Tsuna was following. "I've been helping my dad out in the shop, so I packed both of you a lunch." He tilted his head back so Gokudera and Tsuna could see his grin without delaying the other two. If they didn't get moving they wouldn't make it to school on time.

"It's about damn time you figured out a way to practice." Gokudera muttered while crossing his arms over his chest, miffed his boss and the idiot had been ignoring him.

The grin dissolved off of Yamamoto's face and he shot Gokudera a clear-eyed evaluating glance. After measuring Gokudera for a few minutes, and nearly stumbling over a patch of uneven pavement, he waved away Tsuna's attempt to steady him and sent one final grin over his shoulder to Gokudera before turning back around.

"Yeah, well, dad's an amazing sushi chef. I still have a lot to learn from him."

Gokudera snorted and fidgeted with his cigarette lighter.

Tsuna frowned in confusion. "… Anyway, thanks for making us lunch, Yamamoto-kun." Tsuna thanked sincerely, but still rather dubiously, feeling like he had missed a whole separate conversation.

Yamamoto laughed again. "No way! It was no big deal! Besides, there's still a ton I need to learn from my dad." His eyes glinted with humor and something Tsuna couldn't quite make out. "I was really lucky I didn't drop them after I knocked into you, though." He smiled easily and brandished the lunch boxes to illustrate his point.

Gokudera grumbled in the background, still sulking, and tucked his arms behind his head, with his head turned so as to not have to look at the walking idiocy that was the baseball fanatic.

His attention was forced back to the two boys in the lead, however, when he knocked into Yamamoto.

Stepping back hurriedly, Gokudera opened his mouth to berate the moron's inability to walk, but closed it again when he noticed both Yamamoto and Tsuna were frozen in place, watching the gates of the school. Slowly, Gokudera dropped his arms and tried to take in the gates they had their eyes on, and why both of them were frozen.

"Hey, what's up?" Gokudera finally just asked.

"I… don't know, really. Something just feels really weird." Tsuna replied without looking away.

"No one's just walking in." Yamamoto explained neutrally. "They're all either sneaking around or dashing though the gates, even though no one's anywhere near late." Yamamoto observed, equally mesmerized by the oddity.

Turning back to the gates, Gokudera watched for a bit himself, looking for the pattern that Yamamoto had claimed to see.

"Yeah, you're right." Tsuna agreed. "Maybe Hibari-san's in a bad mood?"

Gokudera frowned. "That bastard sleeps in his clubroom until it gets closer to the gates closing."

"So. What do we do, Tsuna?" Yamamoto turned to his shorter friend.

"Me?" Tsuna looked around wildly, hoping to find someone else willing to take on the leadership role.

"Yeah, with your amazing intuition, you'll know exactly what to do!" Gokudera was trilled, not only would he get to see his boss in action, but he might even get to have a good fight in before classes.

"I – uh, well," Tsuna sputtered trying to think of something to say, anything really. Fretfully, he started playing with the strap to his school bag, rather than daring to look up at his friends.

"Well… I guess… We should just walk in? Normally, I mean?" Tsuna questioned more than suggested to his shoes. He quickly glanced up and then glanced away. "I mean, if no one's having a problem entering whether they enter quickly or slowly, it should be fine to walk normally, shouldn't it?" Tsuna babbled. In his brief glance, he had misread Yamamoto and Gokudera's consideration for his idea, and desperately felt the need to justify himself.

"So wise! As expected of the tenth!" Gokudera gushed in glee.

Yamamoto grinned hugely and slapped Tsuna on the back, making the shorter boy stumble under the 'light pat'. "Makes sense to me!" He chirped.

"You asshole! Get your dirty hands off the Tenth!" Gokudera growled in irritation.

Tsuna smiled helplessly at his friend's antics, and preceded them on their way to the school.

Yamamoto laughed carelessly and followed the young mafia boss, easily catching up with him with his longer stride, and slung an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm telling you, you idiot, stop touching him!" Gokudera complained, overtaking the two of them and walking slightly ahead.

The trio's carefree attitudes started to fade, however, once they had stepped through the gateway. The atmosphere around them seemed to have changed as well, with their most of their fellow students staring at them in horror for not slinking or scurrying into the school.

A smaller minority of students didn't seem to even notice the now famous Sawada Tsunayoshi and his "body guards". Instead, they seemed to be staring in morbid fascination at one of the trees that lined the courtyard.

Tsuna followed the gaze of one such student and his steps faltered with uncertainty.

"Uh, Tsuna, isn't that Hiruma-san? Your Sena-senpai's team captain?" Yamamoto asked carefully as he took in the scowling figure leaning on the trunk of a tree, and with a semi-automatic propped on his shoulder.

"Yhh-Yhhha." Tsuna cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the raspy, fear-laden squeak that came out instead of his casual affirmative.

"Yeah." He tried again, wondering off-hand where all the moisture in his mouth had gone. "But I don't really know why he would be here, I mean, I haven't seen Sena-nii since…" The Tenth trailed off into horrified silence as he slowly and mechanically turned to the person in his small group of friends who had seen his brother between today and Sunday.

Tsuna was too slow, however, and only barely caught the blur of silver that streaked past him with a blood-curdling and wholly-inappropriate-for-a-middle-school-setting battle cry.

"You asshole!" Gokudera shrieked as he hurdled towards Hiruma, "How dare you challenge the boss of the greatest family on his own grounds? You're too cocky by half!

Unfortunately, the genius was so insulated in his rage at the imagined slight that he hadn't thought his attack through at all, and when he paused at mid-range to throw his dynamite, not only did he find himself without a cigarette to light the bombs, but with a bright red dot between his eyes, harshly contrasting the difference between mid and long range weaponry.

"That's adorable." Hiruma deadpanned, snapping two of his cellphones shut and tucking them away in his tacky green blazer pocket, but simply dropping the third on the ground and crushing it under his heel. "But I'm not here to talk to a rabid puppy; I'm here to talk to his wimpy owner." Though the captain's eyes had turned to the shortest boy, Gokudera could _feel_ it in the air, that if he had reached for the lighter in his inner jacket pocket, no matter how subtly, he would be shot on the spot without remorse.

Despite the intense green glare, Tsuna's eyes were still on the crushed cellphone on the ground. Well, to be more precise, Tsuna's eyes were on the rough semi-circle of bullet holes that riddled the ground, a testament of rebuked attempts to engage the infamous leader in conversation or conflict before Tsuna had arrived. The tenth generation boss was so horrified and engrossed that he almost didn't notice Yamamoto stepping forward and slightly in front of Tsuna.

"Now, now, we all know Gokudera's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but that's no reason to - " Yamamoto was cut off by the cocking of a revolver.

With his eyes still on Tsuna, and both arms extended holding guns to both the Storm and Rain Guardians, Hiruma finally addressed Tsuna directly. "It's up to you whether I leave here peacefully, or whether I stay bloodily. Have your two bodyguards stand under the tree next to the group of three that pissed themselves over there," Here he gestured vaguely with his shoulder without jarring his aim on Gokudera, something that simultaneously impressed and terrified Tsuna, "And we'll have a nice, calm discussion. If not, I've never hesitated to pull a trigger."

Tsuna believed him.

"Tenth!" Gokudera started heatedly, but was quickly cut off.

"Hey, it's just talking. Compared to Reborn, this is nothing at all." Tsuna smiled a weak, wavering smile. "And the melting point for bullets is probably about equal to the melting points for lightening rods, right?" The smile gained a little more strength and he subtly nudged the pill bottle in his pocket that he'd been so careful to carry around after he'd been so useless to Sena-nii.

Yamamoto's face was grim, but he nodded in understanding. "If you got it, you got it. Let's let Tsuna handle this." A large grin slipped over Yamamoto's face, but his eyes hadn't quite made the change. "C'mon, Gokudera, I want to copy your homework anyway."

Silently, and with suspicious eyes, Gokudera backed away from the gun. His eyes measured every step he took away, and his mind was racing at breakneck speeds, looking for some advantage, but he still did as his boss bade, and backed all the way back to the tree with Yamamoto.

Eyes still on the wily guardians, Hiruma lowered his firearms to chest level, then, again, more slowly to his side. He tucked away the smaller revolver he had pointed at Yamamoto, but kept his semi-automatic by his side.

"I didn't send him, but I take full responsibility." Tsuna said grimly, though in his chest his heart was beating like a frantic rabbit's, and his brain was flooded with adrenaline triggering his 'fight or flight' and making it hard to think.

"I didn't think so." The blond's eyes were still trained on the guardians, Yamamoto apparently casually chatting up the students gathered around him for information, despite his eyes having not left Hiruma's either, and Gokudera not even pretending to pay attention to his classmates, instead lighting a cigarette. "You don't exactly fit the 'devious' bill."

Tsuna stared at Hiruma blankly. If he wasn't here about Gokudera than what…?

"Though I've been wrong a time or two before." Hiruma continued before Tsuna could voice his question. "I did think that you would be content spending a weekend with that fucking shrimp and then sending him a postcard from vacation every summer like every other long lost childhood friend, but here I am, in a territory which is usually too much of a hassle to deal with, just to tell you to stay the fuck away from my running back after he disappeared for a whole night and not even my best slaves could tell me where you two ran off to."

Tsuna blinked. "So you're trying to scare me away from my brother like an overprotective father trying to scare his only daughter's first boyfriend?" He blurted out without thinking.

Green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I don't want Sena to join the mafia."

Tsuna felt his heart stutter in his chest. There's just no way Hiruma could possibly know about the Vongola. Even if he _had_ heard about the family – and make no mistake, that in and of itself was more than a bit of a stretch – no one would possibly believe that the Tenth generation boss would be living in Namimori, Japan.

Said improbable boss opened his mouth to argue just that, but was cut off abruptly before the first syllable had tumbled across the barrier of his lips. His eyes widened and his breath cut off with a surprised squeak.

"H-Hibari-san." Tsuna greeted tremblingly, numbly noting his banished friends returning from their mock-exile and taking up guarding point.

The prefect nodded briefly, more likely in acknowledgement that Tsuna wasn't at fault today than in respect to his 'boss', but didn't take his steel-gray eyes away from Hiruma's green, nor did he remove his tonfa from Hiruma's… bayonet?

Tsuna felt a cold chill run down his spine. No way either of them were human, let alone students.

"Senpai." Hibari greeted with glacial eyes and a mocking tilt to his mouth, "This is a surprise. There are no upperclassmen recruiting visits on the schedule this week."

While Hibari's eyes were locked on Hiruma, Hiruma's were still locked with Tsuna's. "Walk away now, while you still can." Was his simple reply.

Hibari's lips lifted in a vicious and guttural snarl. "I don't appreciate false-predators roaming my territory and destroying my grounds."

Hiruma slowly released Tsuna's eyes, and Tsuna felt like he had just had a massive weight lifted off his chest. Hiruma slowly, measuring looked Hibari over, ruffled hair to shiny shoes, and let his widest, creepiest, toothiest, most gum-filled grin slash across his face, and grinning like a demented Jack-o-lantern, complete with terrifyingly pointed teeth, simply said: "Not worth it," and returned his horrible gaze to Tsuna. "I don't play with middle-schoolers, not even middle schoolers with daddy's considerable backing."

A savage growl rumbled up into Hibari's chest and tumbled past his lips. "I will bite you to death!" He twisted the tonfa that was deadlocked in an attempt to wrench the rifle from Hiruma's grip, and with his other arm, brought up the opposing tonfa aiming for the blond's temple.

Tsuna jumped back at the clang of the tonfa on a second gun and attempted to calm them down, despite his own fear.

"Hiruma-san! Hibari-san! Please! We were just talking, there's no reason to fight; we're done! We'll talk after school, off school grounds!" Tsuna pleas were ineffectual, aside from Gokudera tucking his boss more firmly behind him.

Instead, Hibari reared his head back and attempted to head-butt Hiruma's chin, due to the height difference. Hiruma flashed his teeth, and wrested his bayonet away from Hibari's tonfa in a slashing motion that managed to score Hibari's uniform's collar. The already aggravated cloud guardian's eyes dilated and he started to lunge forward again, only to catch himself mid-motion as he just barely noticed Hiruma shifting his weight to his left leg. Instead, Hibari threw himself back and to the right, out of the path of a leg-sweep and the counter-sweep of the bayonet. Hibari hesitated, he'd almost been surprised by the sweep of the knife, if he hadn't caught the shoulder dipping lower than an average weight shift, the fight might have been over.

Hibari froze momentarily in frustration. Hiruma's feint had worked, now Hibari was out of his ideal range. He fingered the mechanism to release the chains attached to his tonfas, but reluctantly decided that the blond pretty clearly qualified as an expert in ranged fighting, and stepping into Hiruma's comfort zone was just suicide. Hibari was startled out of his indecision by a gunshot, and only his incredibly quick movements caused blood trickling down his neck to be from a near miss grazing his jaw, rather than a bullet hole requiring hospitalization.

Hibari refused to give into Hiruma's herding though, and that's all it could possibly be – otherwise the prefect would be dead – so instead Hibari ducked and rolled directly toward the gun-slinging team captain. Upon reaching the long legs, Hibari lashed out directly at Hiruma's knees, but only sliced air. He looked up and saw the high schooler had grabbed the tree branch above him, pulling himself out of the course of the tonfas. Hibari shot to his feet, following Hiruma and activated the barbs on his tonfas, but his moves were countered as quickly as they were made once more by Hiruma locking his legs around the branch and swinging upside down with two handguns blazing like he were fresh out of some shitty action 'B-movie".

Frustrated beyond the point of rational thought, Hibari dropped his tonfas, leapt and mounted the branch Hiruma was hanging from, but instead of ascending he lifted his legs and landed a solid kick on each shoulder. Hiruma rolled with the kicks and let his legs release their hold on the branch, landing on the ground with an awkwardly twisty back flip. Upon landing in a crouch, but on his feet like a cat, Hiruma pulled a fully automatic rifle from what must have been a hidden stash, for Hibari hadn't noticed it before. Hiruma pulled the trigger, and emptied the magazine in a round of suppression fire that allowed him to duck behind a tree.

Hibari pulled himself up so that he was in a sitting position in the tree and scanned the surrounding area for the blond devil. The cloud guardian's chest was heaving, desperately sucking in air, and he could feel a few more lines of fire on his torso from more near misses from the machine gun. Hibari couldn't remember the last time he'd been pushed so hard in a fight, but he didn't feel the predatory thrill he usually did. Now, he just felt pissed off. He felt a chill run down his spine and his instincts screamed at him to move, so he slid down the tree fireman style, shredding his palms, but he'd take the shredded palms over the charred remnants of the branch he'd been sitting on. Who the hell carried a flamethrower?

Hibari was used to Hiruma's rhythms by now, though, and knew that that was just a distraction as he set up a second trap, so Hibari leaned down to pick up his tonfas and had a half-formed plan to find a new hiding place. The plan died a swift death when he felt the barrel of a gun on the back of his head.

Hibari smiled mirthlessly. "I should have known that the moment I thought I had you figured out, you'd spring the trap you'd been setting."

"Straighten up and turn around slowly."

Hibari was reckless, but not stupid. He knew his speed, and knew there were no chance of him reaching his tonfas, so he did as he was bid, his eyes blazing with hatred as they met the team captain's. Then Hibari let his eyes drift up to the gun before it got close enough to force him to cross his eyes and lose face.

The little hand-held six-shot revolver seemed almost childish compared to the larger weaponry that Hiruma'd been utilizing recently, but Hibari still felt time seem to slow around him as he was confronted by a weapon almost comically small when compared to the others the demon had used. He felt mired in a surrealistic purgatory, where the agony of near misses from the larger firearms, and the burning in his side caused by his shortness of breath were muted, and all he could focus on was the cold reality of the laughable six-shooter resting on his forehead like a lingering kiss from a mother.

The blond's bottle green eyes, when Hibari raised his eyes from his estimation of whether or not he could reach his tonfa, – only a 15% chance, without getting shot, and a 89% chance of the shot being fatal – held neither the contempt that he'd seen before their fight, nor the near rabid irritation he'd seen as the fight had begun. Instead, the demon's eyes were cold and hard. Hiruma _would_ pull the trigger. He'd probably get away with it too.

The thought made Hibari bare his teeth.

Green eyes never flinched at the feral movement. Instead, a cruel smile crept across the thin lips, making the hard eyes seem even more merciless.

"I am superior." Hiruma whispered, for Hibari's ears only.

And before Hibari could react – willing to throw himself at the demon and sink his teeth into the jugular if need be, and an 89% be _damned_ – Hiruma shifted his grip on the weapon and brought the butt of the gun down onto Hibari's temple, knocking the boy out.

Hiruma stared down at the unconscious boy without expression, before snapping his head up, catching one of Hibari's prefects trying to sneak around behind the blond to avenge his leader. Hiruma leveled the gun at him.

"Take him to the nurse. Tell her he fell off of his bike." Hiruma ignored the fact most of the school had been watching from the windows, as they usually did when the disciplinary squad's head prefect "disciplined others" on school grounds. "When he wakes up, tell him…" Here Hiruma hesitated. "Tell him to let me know when he gets stronger."

Tsuna's jaw dropped as they watched Hiruma saunter off the school grounds without a backwards glance.

"I guess Hibari got him pretty good after all." Yamamoto remarked.

Gokudera and Tsuna turned to him in unison.

"Well," Yamamoto grinned uncomfortably and scratched his neck. "He likes intimidation and flaunting the law, right? So he should have had one of his big-ass guns slung over his shoulder as he left, unless he was out of guns, or unless Hibari messed up his shoulder too bad."

Gokudera and Tsuna swung their gazes back to where Hiruma had disappeared through the gates.

"He never finished what he was saying." Tsuna commented distantly.

"Yeah, and that bastard never mentioned how he knew about the mafia, either." Gokudera gripped, and dropped the cigarette he had left smoldering and dangling half-forgotten from his lips as he watched the fight, just in case he got pulled in.

"How did you even hear-?" Tsuna started, before his confusion was exacerbated by a familiar voice coming from seemingly nowhere.

"Ciaossu."

Tsuna looked around wildly, completely baffled, but only saw the terrified or elated students milling around, recapping the fight to one another.

"Stupid-Tsuna, if you don't learn to look up as well, you are going to be the shortest-lived boss in Vongola history."

Tsuna followed Reborn's advice, only to get a face-full of the baby hitman in a Leon parachute, but still landing with enough force to knock the boss-in-waiting to the ground remorselessly.

Reborn leisurely crossed his legs, removed his helmet and replaced it with his fedora, upon which the transformed chameleon scrambled up to perch. From his comfortable spot on Tsuna's lower back, Reborn once again addressed the two remaining guardians.

"Ciaossu."

"Hey there, little guy!" Yamamoto greeted with his sunny grin.

"Did you see the fight, Reborn-san? Should we take this as an attack on the family?" Gokudera greeted gravely, purposely ignoring the idiot's levity.

"I did see it, it was rather spectacular. Your Cloud Guardian's going to be rather upset when he wakes up." Reborn addressed the moaning brunet under him.

Tsuna mumbled into the dirt.

"No, I don't think we'll have to worry about Hibari following Hiruma, I think it was more a territory issue between two who are used to being the top of the food chain." Reborn disagreed. "And to answer Gokudera, I'd just take this as a demonstration of the outside advisor's family's strength."

Tsuna attempted to bolt upright, but was hindered by Leon morphing to a completely impractical 50 pound weight, slamming Tsuna back down into the soil. "We haven't agreed to that yet!" Tsuna protested.

"I don't think it'd be that bad of a deal."

Everyone turned to a thoughtful Yamamoto.

"Well, we just saw how strong Hiruma is, and we know how fast Sena-senpai is, so if we could outfit him with the right weapon…" He trailed off thoughtfully.

"He used a chain when he and useless-Tsuna got into the street fight." Reborn supplied helpfully.

Yamamoto frowned. "Not very elegant, but I suppose it'll do."

"If Reborn supports it, then I can vouch for how tough these guys are physically, I'm not sure about the rest of Sena-senpai's family in a fight, though."

"I NEVER AGREED!" Tsuna started to cry.

"Ooooh, I should have given Hiruma-senpai a lunch for Sena-senpai!" Yamamoto cut in with genuine remorse.

"Idiot, you only have three." Gokudera grouched.

"That's fine; I'd just give him yours." Yamamoto teased and ducked the oncoming fist. "Come on, the bells going to ring, and Hibari's henchmen are out for blood since their leader can't be."

Reborn picked up his reptile once more, and nodded to them, before disappearing into a door in one of the trees.

"He keeps getting more and more ridiculous." Tsuna muttered to the ground morosely, before being hauled up by Yamamoto and being over enthusiastically dusted off by Gokudera.

Tsuna wasn't sure how much more his poor, shot nerves could take, really.

* * *

PocketAces: Any E/Ns?

Bragi151: Hmmm... None this time. Unless you want to do that convo thing that all fangirls seem to be obsessed with.

PA: ? Oh, yes. Let's do that, I suppose.

Bragi151: **Smiles while holding a whip over the author.**

PA: ... Or not.

Bragi151: hahahahahahahahahaha

I'm not actually going to write that, just give them a taste of how evil I am so they give you more reviews in sympathy. **Smiles out into the audience.**


	15. Chapter 15

I own neither Eyeshield 21 nor Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

* * *

"Dame-Tsuna. I want to go shopping."

Tsuna froze in the middle of the classroom doorjamb, blocking the rest of his classmates trying to leave or get to club activities after the last bell. With one corner of his mind was still marveling a little at the lack of grumbling and shoving that was usually associated with him blocking the door – sometimes it was _good_ to be Eyeshield's little brother – the rest of his mental process was focused on Reborn. He tilted his head, considering. On one hand, nothing Reborn wanted could ever end well for Tsuna, but on the other hand, not going along with Reborn's plans never ended well either.

"That depends," Tsuna replied as he hefted his school bag onto one shoulder and began walking to his shoe locker. "What would we be shopping for?" He concluded, and turned to look at the tiny home tutor.

"That's the wrong answer." Reborn informed Tsuna calmly as he launched a flying kick at Tsuna's head, making the middle schooler stumble into a first year. Reborn, of course, suffered no such indignity, and instead used his student's head as a spring board to land atop the lockers Tsuna had been aiming for. The Tenth Vongola boss mumbled an apology to the kid, and rubbed at his head wound while Reborn crossed his legs primly stared at the Tenth from his perch, brooding like a vulture ready to descend upon its prey should Tsuna attempt to refuse.

"Well, I guess Yamamoto's got out of class early for practice and'll have to stay late, so I could pick up his gift while he's occupied." Tsuna admitted grudgingly as he pulled out his shoes from their locker.

"No good, boss." Gokudera trotted up to the shorter brunet, having been held behind and yelled at by the teacher again for blatantly ignoring the day's lecture. Gokudera still looked a little groggy from his class-time nap, Tsuna noted with slight envy, and was holding a book on his shoulder which drew appreciative glances from some of the girls exchanging shoes, as it accentuated his long, lean torso and showed just a sliver of toned abs under his untucked shirt. "Maman is going to the movies with Kobayakawa-senpai's mom, and she wanted you to watch the stupid cow and Ipin."

"They can come with." Tsuna shrugged, and raised a leg to tug on his outdoor shoe more firmly, and afterwards self-consciously tugged his shirt _down_ so no one would have to look at his scrawny, pale stomach.

"No." Both boys looked up into searing black eyes. "Gokudera will watch them; Tsuna's going shopping with me."

Gokudera's jaw dropped a little. "Bu-But what about protection!" He sputtered, entirely focused on the baby, missing some looks of bitter disillusionment or sly amusement from his word choice, depending of the bystander's gender. "The Tenth just can't wander around crowded stores alone! It's not safe!" He protested vehemently.

Reborn uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, putting most of his slim weight on his small palms. Just in the slight shifts in posture, Tsuna was overwhelmingly reminded of Reborn's continued claims of being a great hitman. Gone was the brooding vulture, in its place was a inky black wildcat, watching its prey with great intensity and no little amusement, an amusement afforded to predators when it knows its prey has no chance of escape, but enjoys the prey's struggles nonetheless.

The effect was not lost on Gokudera.

His jaw was slightly dropped, marveling at the display of sheer power from the Ninth Vongola Boss' most trusted hitman. "I – I guess I could watch the kids for you." Gokudera stammered slightly, clearly humbled.

"See that you do." Reborn smirked, and released his hold on the lockers to drop smoothly and perfectly into Tsuna's school bag to ride in comfort while the brunet carried them to the shopping center that contained the gift that Tsuna had already picked out.

Tsuna shrugged unhappily at Gokudera, a 'what-can-you-do-it's-Reborn' shrug, and quietly thanked him for picking up babysitting duty before pressing past him towards the door.

It wasn't until the crowds thinned a little and Tsuna was too far from home, the school, or the shopping center to bolt when Reborn brought up the real reason for leaving Gokudera at the school.

"I want to bring Sena into the mafia."

Tsuna nearly dropped his bag in shock, but gripped it tightly, knowing that would be a _very bad idea_ and of no practical use in this conversation.

"I don't." Tsuna disagreed as smoothly as he could manage.

"That's little brother talking." Reborn frowned scornfully. "I want to talk to the Tenth generation boss of the Vongola Familia.

"I'm not the Ten–" Tsuna swallowed back that argument, knowing that this was neither the time nor place for it. Studying his tranquil and people-less surroundings, Tsuna tried a different angle. "It's too dangerous for him. He may be an American football star, but he's never been in one of _our_ fights. He's never been in a life-or-death situation, and he has no idea how the Italian Mafia works."

"You hadn't experienced any of that, either, until I came to train you." Reborn pressed implacably.

"I didn't have a choice. I'm a descendant of the First, and the other successors were either frozen or dead." A bit of dread settled into the pit of Tsuna's stomach and started to grow. "… Wait, did you just imply that you'd be willing to train Sena-nii?"

Reborn ignored the second question. "The farther from the mafia he is, the better; particularly since he's well suited for the post of outside advisor and head of CEDEF."

"The CEDEF?" Tsuna sputtered. "But he! He'll get hurt, my argument about his lack of training still stands!"

"Of course the Vongola would train their outside advisor. And it's not like he isn't getting hurt right now. You saw him out on the field last weekend."

"That was different, that was a game! If he's a Vongola he could be killed!"

"He's strong, and has potential to grow stronger, he's got an outsider's perspective that you wouldn't have. Kobayakawa Sena would make an excellent advisor, if we shined him up a bit." Reborn refused to be dissuaded.

Tsuna moaned. "That's another thing, you'd ruin his NFL career. You know he's going to take America by storm the minute he gets signed."

"It's no bad thing to blind the enemies of the Vongola behind the dazzle of a celebrity."

"Yeah, but dad always stayed with the Ninth; he almost never came back, even though he adores mom." Tsuna tried to rein in his bitterness, but it still seeped out to flavor his words.

"That was Imetsu's way of advising. There's no law that the advisor must stay by the Boss' side, Imetsu simply thought he could help the most that way." Reborn blithely by-stepped Tsuna's unspoken demand. "You trust Sena. You trust him to have your back, and to settle you on the ground when your head gets too far up in the clouds. Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

"He'll get hurt!" Tsuna protested heatedly.

"And it comes back to that." Reborn muttered darkly, and watched as the foot traffic started to pick back up. "How about this; he knows your connections now, and he wants to help. If he offers to join, will you let him?"

Tsuna looked down at the baby in his school bag that he'd been carefully not looking at for the first time it the conversation. "You promise, no underhanded, sly tricks?" He asked with suspicion.

Reborn gritted his tiny teeth. "On my honor at a hitman." He didn't want to give that up, but he wasn't sure he'd get much more of a concession from the stubborn middle schooler.

"…Fine. If he brings it up, and if he offers, I'll take Sena-nii as my outside advisor."

[]o[]O[]o[]

"You don't even understand! They have speed skating at the winter Olympics, and rollerblading is harder anyway!" Suzuna huffed at Monta.

"No way." The receiver disagreed, through a mouthful of banana while waving his arms around wildly in negation. "That'd be so _boring!_ Anyone can roller skate, it takes a special kind of balance to ice skate, especially speed skating."

"No, listen, rollerblading would be so much better! For one, it's harder to stop than just digging a sharpened blade into ice…"

Sena shook his head and turned his attention back to browsing the sports store once more, tuning his friends out. Suzuna and Monta had been bickering ever since she had met them at Deimon's front gate after school. It didn't help that this was an argument they had had at least three times before.

The running back was grateful for his friends, really he was. Who else would tolerate his waffling dedication to perfection? Though they could be a little frustrating in their squabbles, they stuck by him steadfastly and uncomplaining as he drug them through every sports store surrounding Deimon, and at least two department stores. Eventually, Sena had even managed to lead them out of their usual district into the Namimori one. He had stepped up the search after that, terrified of running into Yamamoto while shopping for his birthday present.

"I just think it would be redundant!" Sena briefly and accidentally tuned back into the argument.

"Ooh, big words from a monkey!" It seemed to have been a good time anyway, Suzuna must have been feeling personally attacked, for her to go after Monta's own Achilles' heel.

"Hey, isn't that Tsu-kun?" Monta asked at the same time, looking past Sena's shoulder, apparently having not heard Suzuna's taunt.

Sena consciously relaxed the muscles that had unconsciously tensed when he thought he would have to jump in in an attempt to diffuse the situation, before it had diffused itself.

Sena shot Suzuna a disapproving look, which was countered by a weakly defiant countenance – clearly hiding the more prevalent shame at her faux-pas.

Content with the knowledge that she would apologize in her own time and her own way, despite the fact the receiver had missed the shot, Sena turned to confirm or deny Tsuna's presence.

Only to stumble back as he faced the overwhelming inky blackness that he had woken to only last weekend.

"Reborn-kun." Sena greeted the baby casually standing on Tsuna's shoulder (a rather uncomfortable arrangement for both of them, Sena was sure, meaning that Reborn probably had done it just to torment Tsuna's older brother once more.) "I hope that's not going to be your standard greeting, I'm not sure my heart could take it." He smiled a wavery little smile, half-joking and half-hopeful.

Reborn only shrugged with a mysterious little half smile. "What a wonderful coincidence." His small smile growing to that of an oily-slick salesman's. "I assume you're running the same errand we were." He nodded down to the bag in Tsuna's hand advertising the athletic outfitter that Sena and his friends had been making their way towards.

"Oh." Sena frowned slightly.

"Sena-nii?" Tsuna questioned with a matching frown, wondering what he had done to warrant that look of vague disappointment. An insidious little voice in his mind reminded him, that he was, after all, no-good Tsuna, and that he shouldn't have bothered Sena-nii, that he should have just taken Reborn's punishment later for defying the hitman's impetuous demands, particularly after the unsettling conversation Reborn had forced upon Tsuna less than an hour before 'coincidentally' running into Sena.

"Hey, Tsu-kun." The older brunet greeted with a sunny smile, soothing away Tsuna's self-doubt instantly. "Sorry, I've been dragging them," Sena looked over his shoulder slightly to indicate his friends on his right before turning back to Tsuna and Reborn, "All over Deimon and now over a bit of Namimori trying to find something for Yamamoto-kun, too."

"Oh." Tsuna replied with no little relief. "Well, if it helps –"

"We should go get a cup of tea." Reborn broke in, finishing Tsuna's sentence.

Sena pulled his cell phone from his pocket to look down at the time. It was slightly jarring, seeing such an early hour after school, before he remembered his ferally irritated team captain canceling both morning and evening practices for a couple days. It probably had to do with how rigidly he was holding his shoulders after the first attempt at a full practice.

"Yeah, I guess we have time." Sena conceded.

"Uh, actually, we're going to head back first." Suzuna cut in.

Sena turned to her in confusion, but was turned around entirely by Monta tugging on his arm. Suzuna moved in closer to complete a small circle conference.

"Nothing against your brother," Suzuna began.

"But that baby is creepy MAX." Monta finished.

"Well," Sena looked back over his shoulder to a baffled Tsuna and a smug Reborn. "Well, thanks for coming with me this far, I guess. Sorry to drag you around so far."

"No worries." Monta said loudly and with a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Sorry we're bailing on you." He nodded to the pair behind Sena to include Tsuna in the apology.

Tsuna nodded back amiably. "It was nice to see you again Monta-san, Suzuna." He still choked a little on the lack of honorific, but his smile was sincere.

Suzuna smiled and winked at Tsuna for getting her name right, then turned to skate after Monta.

Sena lifted a hand to hide his grin when he noticed Tsuna's blush at Suzuna's actions, and instead cleared his throat to address Reborn. "Did you have any place in particular in mind? I don't know the area as well as I used to." He confessed.

Reborn simply shrugged. "There's a coffee house just down the way a bit; Tsuna and I passed it earlier." He replied without interest, his eyes on Sena, but the thoughts behind them thousands of miles away.

"Lead the way, Tsu-kun." Sena replied cheerfully, nudging his brother with his shoulder. "By the way, what _did_ you get Takashi-kun? I've got _no_ idea." He frowned with mock frustration.

"Huh?" The shorter brunet asked, abruptly snapping back into the conversation. "Oh, um, I got him this glove he'd been eyeing. He wasn't exactly subtle about it." As Tsuna slowly caught back up with the conversation his face varied from amusement to chagrin. "Otherwise, I think I'd be just as baffled." More chagrin. "But it should be easy for you, Sena-nii, couldn't you just sign something for him?" He looked up the scant few inches to his brother's eyes questioningly.

Sena blanched in embarrassment. "Oh, no way." He shook his head violently. "No way, that would be _so _cocky."

Tsuna grinned at the new avenues of torment that opened to him. "But Sena-nii, he _worships_ you, you know."

"Where the hell is that café? He muttered to himself, looking around wildly, more for an out in the conversation than for the actual building.

"Just ahead and to the left." Reborn answered anyway.

"What's this place called?" Sena asked, pouncing upon the change of subject. "I've never seen or heard of it."

"It's just a little out of the way café that doesn't ask too many questions." Reborn answered in a tone that would have been casual if the words hadn't colored it 'mafia'.

Both brothers blanched this time.

"You know, Reborn, I'm sure Sena still has shopping to do…" Tsuna trailed off, hoping to save his brother, even a little.

"Come now." Reborn's lips twisted in a way that was probably meant to be a grin, but simply came off as sadistic. "Surely he has time for tea with his adorable little brother?"

Sena set his face in a mask of determination. "I do. Actually, while I have both of you here, I've been meaning to ask… What the hell do I do with that suit?"

Sena looked so confused, so put out that he couldn't find a single social rule for what to do with a tailor-made suit that was lent/given to him by the Italian mafia, which Tsuna snorted a bit in laughter. The snort dredged up another chuckle, then another, until Tsuna was shaking with repressed laugher.

With a look of irritation, Reborn smoothly transitioned onto Sena's shoulder and stared down at his charge trying desperately to control himself.

"What -" Tsuna cut himself off with another snicker, one hand wiping away tears that had been forming, the other resting on his stomach as he tried to regain his breath. "What did you tell your mom about being out all night, and coming back with a suit?"

Sena frowned. "I told her Hiruma set up an interview, but it fell through – 'cuz otherwise she'd want a copy of the article – I told her I had no idea what he did with my clothes."

That cracked Tsuna back up. "Hiruma losing your clothes is a common enough occurrence that your mom doesn't even question it anymore?" Tsuna howled with laughter.

Sena looked sulky and shoved his brother into the seedy looking coffee shop. Following not more that a step behind, Sena leaned down that last inch to Tsuna's ear and whispered, "I hear it's not that uncommon at your house either, boxers."

And as though a switch had been flipped, Tsuna's mirth dissipated. "Jerk." Tsuna crossed his arms and muttered sourly.

"Works for me." Sena returned flippantly, and approached the bar. "Hi." He greeted the rough-looking employee with a sunny grin. "Could I get an iced chai, an espresso, and…" The runner looked back to his brother.

"A strawberry Italian soda." Tsuna ordered sulkily.

"And some privacy." Reborn ordered nonchalantly.

Recognition dawned in the man's eyes, and after filling their drink orders and accepting Sena's money, he made himself scarce.

They settled down at a small table in the corner with a view of the door and the two large-ish plate glass windows on either side, dulled with dust and age. It wasn't that the café was filthy, it just seemed to have a fine layer of dust on almost everything, aside from behind the counter where the food and drinks were prepared, there it was spotless. Sena didn't really understand why a business that had such an air of disuse, and in which he, Reborn, and Tsuna were the only customers even as housewives and students hurried home outside seemed to be in good enough financial shape that the proprietor would leave them alone in the shop, Mafia or no Mafia.

"Now then." Reborn started as he got himself settled, but not before he sipped his coffee and let out an appreciative sigh.

Tsuna shot him a sharp glance, and lowered his cup before he had tasted it.

"About the suit."

Tsuna visibly relaxed and the cup resumed its journey.

"It's fine if you hold onto it, you might need it." Reborn smiled.

Tsuna was reminded that the cup he was holding was only a thin plastic carry-out cup by the cold, syrupy beverage now running down his hand from squeezing a little too hard.

"Is this a gift like the arm band?" Sena asked with a measuring gaze, as he dipped one hand down into his school bag to retrieve said gift. The running back set it down on the table, crest up, and addressed it. "Or is the suit a gift given with… expectations?"

"Well, that depends." Reborn grinned.

"NO!" Tsuna burst out. "No it does not depend on anything." He glared at Reborn, despite his quailing back in his chair at the more intense glare coming from the baby. "What you do with your life is up to you!" Tsuna told Sena defiantly.

"So, if I wanted to join the Italian Mafia to stay by your side, you'd be fine with that?"

The question caught both Tsuna and Reborn off guard. They both turned from their mutual antagonism to regard Sena, one with abject horror, the other with appraisal.

"I mean." Sena back-pedaled, "It's not that I want to run around killing or war-profiteering, but Mafia does have a bit of an… implication behind the word." Sena directed his gaze at Reborn.

The baby hitman stared at Sena from his seat atop the table. His legs were folded neatly in front of him, and he shot one last glance – almost smug – at Tsuna before he set his cup and saucer down the table in front of his legs to give Sena his full attention, unbidden, Leon scrambled down from the brim of Reborn's fedora, feeling the need for his master's attention.

"I had wondered how long it would take for someone to ask me that; I just never imagined it would be an out-family member asking, nor me answering." Reborn smirked, eyes not leaving Leon's shifting down to his hands.

"I'm not out-family." Sena said as steadily as if he had been adopted by Vongola I himself.

Reborn's eyes shifted up to capture Sena's.

Ignoring his student's sputtering at Sena's assertion, Reborn's tiny eyes closed and arched up to match his Cheshire grin, but Sena could still _feel_ Reborn waiting for him to falter. "We're thieves, the Vongola. We don't run drugs or guns like street scum, we don't sell children or women to corrupt politicians. The Vongola take what we want. And we're damn good at it."

His eyes opened, almost hypnotic with their intensity, drawing in his small audience. "The only law we obey is Vongola law. Respect the Don, respect the family, take what you want from those not in the fold."

"Has Tsunayoshi chosen his consigliere yet?" Sena asked steadily, unmoved by the current of tension running through the conversation like a rip tide, waiting to ensnare a carelessness swimmer.

"No." Reborn answered simply, his eyes almost burning into Sena.

"Good." Sena answered just as succinctly, knowing that superfluous words would cause more harm than help at this time.

"Good." Reborn echoed, with at touch of a soft smirk at the corners of his lips, and turned back to comfort the small lizard frantically scampering on, over, and around the brim of his hat. "Good." He repeated as he ignored the chameleon and picked his espresso back up.

Almost desperately thirsty all of a sudden, Sena took a long pull from his own drink, letting the sweetness and spice dance over his tongue.

"You can't do that!" Tsuna burst out, breaking the false calm that had settled upon them.

Sena blinked.

"Why not? I want to keep my brother safe, and surely they'll show me how to defend both myself and you before I get thrown into battle – " Sena glanced over at Reborn, and got a slight nod of confirmation before continuing. "Plus I'm 'out family' so I'll have an 'out family' perspective for when you're too close to something. And if nothing else, being associated with an American Football player will be considered too ridiculous for one of the strongest Mafia families in Italy." Sena argued reasonably.

"Better to say," Reborn cut in, "no one would suspect the first Japanese player in the NFL to be a Italian Mafia advisor."

Sena sent him a sharpened look. "Though that is my goal, Reborn-kun, I'd prefer to achieve it on my own."

Reborn shrugged indifferently. "Suit yourself. It's not like I would have had to do much." He reclined against Tsuna's arm and resumed sipping on his coffee.

Tsuna slammed down the battered cup, sending more sweetened liquid across the table. Reborn curled his upper lip in distain at the dusty, sticky mess before moving to the other side of Sena as he charge finally exploded.

"I think you're both missing the hell-damned point here!" He snapped and glared at Sena. "You could get killed, you idiot! Do you know how many life-or-death situations I've already been in? That I've dragged my friends into?" To his horror, Tsuna felt his eyes tearing up. "I'm sick of people around me getting hurt by the Mafia!" He raged, holding Sena's gaze in his.

Calmly, Sena reached over and pulled his brother against his side.

"I'm not going to marginalize your concerns, Tsuna-kun, but if we want to put our lives on the line for you – and note that I have included myself – than that's what we're going to do. Reborn-kun and I spoke of lofty goals, but you have to understand. You're my brother, and Vongola X or not, you will always take priority in my life."

Tsuna buried his face in Sena's arm.

"You're definitely going to get hurt. You might get killed. That'll be on me, for dragging you into this. I'll have to stand in front of your parents at your funeral and apologize for killing you." Tsuna stated blandly, as though reciting from his books in class.

"Hey, don't go killing me off yet." Sena chastised mildly. "And no. It won't be your fault. I chose this road. At any point, I could have closed my mind away from what I was seeing, rationalized away the anomalies, but I don't want to compartmentalize my brother, I want to be there for you, even in life or death battles. Believe me, Tsu-kun, this is _my_ choice."

Tsuna nodded. He believed him.

Sena raised his arms above his head and stretched luxuriously, arching his back like a cat, and shattering the somber mood. "This was a conversation we've needed to have for a while, but that still doesn't help me find a birthday present for Takashi-kun." He twisted from side to side to pop his back then rose from his chair. Casually approaching the counter, he looked back and forth for the employee. He shrugged and leaned bodily over the counter to snag a dishrag, and returned to the table to mop up Tsuna's mess.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Tsuna asked, fiddling with his mostly-empty cup, too humiliated to lurch to his feet in a painfully awkward attempt to help clean up like his brother was already doing, only gracelessly and without any use whatsoever.

Again, Sena shrugged. "If you'd like. I have a feeling I'm not going to find anything decent in any of the shops, though."

"If that's that case," Reborn piped up, "then _Vongola Decimo_ and I have some training to do."

Tsuna let out a wail of dismay and fear. Sena simply smiled at their antics.

[]o[]O[]o[]

True to his suspicions, Sena spent the better part of an hour wandering in an out of shops, only half interested in the wares. He might have had more focus if he didn't already know what the perfect present was. Some corner of his mind had lighted upon the solution and scurried away just as quickly, leaving Sena to gnaw at the brief glimpse he'd been given, not unlike Cerberus with, well, anything.

It was rather frustrating to shop purposelessly, though he couldn't really call it a waste of time, seeing as he did find one gift. But as lucky as Sena was to walk away with one present, it was for the wrong person.

It wasn't until he caught a display of sports memorabilia in the corner of his eye that he was able to fully see the illusive plan for Takashi-kun.

With a wide grin, Sena pulled out his phone and started browsing train times and ticket information. Once he got that squared away, he made five quick calls, an even quicker dash to the station, and Sena and Monta boarded the train.

"I don't see why I have to come with," Monta complained without heat. "Taka-san likes you just as much as me, and besides, he said Yamato was coming too."

Then he took in Sena's trembling form and lips that were supposed to be sealed firmly gaining a bit of a waiver. The receiver turned to look out the window and rested his chin in his palm to hide his smile. Sena had probably used up his quota of confidence for the rest of the year just planning the impromptu daytrip. Deimon's star receiver opened his mouth to reassure Sena that he didn't really mind, when he was cut off.

"It's so audacious, and greedy, to ask him for his dad's autograph. He must get that all the time. I feel like such a jerk."

Monta reached out cross the enclosure made by four chairs facing each other and punched Sena's arm. "Hey, idiot, didn't I just tell you Taka thinks of you as a friend? No way this'll piss him off!"

Sena's smile solidified. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Takashi-kun's totally going to freak, you know?" Monta smirked.

Sena's smile grew once more into a full grin. "Won't he?"

The trip was spent much like the first one, missing only Suzuna who had her first major test in math coming up, and didn't trust herself to study on the train. She knew herself and the boys only too well, it seemed, because for the duration of the ride their literature homework stayed packed away, and they instead entertained themselves with a tournament of 'Uno!' until the train pulled into the station.

As they disembarked, Sena felt the little fluttering of panic starting to build in his stomach. What if Yamato and Taka didn't want to pick them up after all? What if he and Monta couldn't find the Teikoku duo? What if…?

Sena's own inner dread was overwhelmed with relief as crowds of commuters easily split and made way for two obnoxiously tall, fair-haired teenagers. Sena repressed a smile; only Yamato and Taka could part a rush hour crush simply by walking. The shorter running back nudged Monta to get his attention, and started to make his way towards Yamato and Taka.

Just as Sena had taken the first step forward, Yamato seemed to have noticed him. "Sena-kun! Hey!" He called out and waved over the din of the crowd. "Over here!" He smiled dazzlingly, called and waved again – superfluously as the crowd parted ever further to accommodate the weird, yelling Teikoku student.

Sena felt his cheeks heat up as he followed the clear, wide path to Yamato and Taka. The bystanders seemed to have taken a mild interest in just who the Teikoku student had been calling to, and watched every step that he and Monta took. Monta, the jerk, didn't seem to notice at all and instead hurried ahead to forearm bump a bemused Taka in greeting.

"How was your trip?" Yamato asked politely, once the runner had finally made his way to the group, and was quickly ushered to the exit. "I hope you don't mind, we left our drivers at the school and walk to the station."

Both Monta and Sena's eyes bulged in surprise. They knew Teikoku was better off than some – most – schools, but… drivers?

"We don't mind." Sena managed to choke out and exchanged an amused glance with Monta. 'Rich kids' they silently laughed with their eyes, without any real scorn, just the amusement of one more surprise waiting for them in Osaka.

"Not at all." Monta finished, leading Yamato and Taka to exchange their own amused glances at the odd Kanto best friends finishing each other's sentences.

"We only have to walk back to the school, Tanaka-san and Nakamura-san – our drivers – " Yamato added for Sena and Monta's benefit, "Will drop us off at Taka's.

"Speaking of." He continued, "I was surprised when you called Taka-kun first, Sena-kun." The taller running back put his hand over his chest in mock-hurt. "I told you you could call anytime!"

Sena smiled at Yamato's theatrics. "Well, it was from Taka-san that I had to ask the favor." His smile died a little as he thought of his (in his mind) monumental request.

Monta noticed his friend's onset of nerves and started the story for him. "The other day, Juumonji – the blond lineman without the glasses – got hit pretty hard at practice. Dokuburo-sensei wasn't there, so we didn't know whether or not he had a concussion, so Hiruma-san sent us with him to walk him home…"

Monta recounted the events that had unfolded just in the last week, including, to Sena's acute embarrassment, his own confirmed concussion.

"It was good that he got thrown out. I trust there were no lingering symptoms?" Taka asked politely, more for the sake of manners, and for continuing the conversation than out of any real concern. Head wounds, after all, aren't uncommon in American football.

"Yeah, he's fine." Monta waved away the question absently, with the easy authority of a best friend more than able to answer questions in the other's stead. "But he did have a really weird bruise over his kidney on Monday." He finished with a frown.

"What?" Yamato froze in place.

"Monta!" Sena cried out in horror.

"What?" Monta asked guilelessly, "I saw it in the locker room, and I didn't think it was that big of a deal if you weren't bitching about it like a little girl." He teased and pulled a face.

"Kidney injuries are extremely serious!" Yamato protested. "Here, let me see."

He reached over and, in the middle the afternoon and on a crowded sidewalk, started pulling Sena's shirt off.

"Yamato!" Sena cried out in horror.

"– really not that big of a deal." Monta babbled and grappled with the taller, stronger footballer trying to help Sena pull his shirt back down.

"– neither the time nor the place…" Taka was trying to sooth Yamato, while batting his hands away.

Finally, the original Eyeshield 21 settled on only lifting the corner of Sena's shirt to examine the bruise, instead of continuing the fight over removing the offending garment in its entirety.

"Wow, that _is_ bad." Taka observed idly.

"Has your urine been bloody, or brown?" Yamato asked gravely.

Already thoroughly humiliated, both by the battle over his shirt, and by the amused and horrified pedestrians, Sena pushed down his blush as best as he could, and instead bolted for the school, zigging and zagging through shocked crowds without any real effort and trusting his memories of the previous visit, unwilling to face more questions about his bodily functions and mysterious bruises.

"Sena!" Monta yelled, and took off with the hope that he wouldn't lose sight of his friend.

"Sena-kun!" Yamato called out and followed, with a bit of hope in catching him.

Taka, the level headed one, broke the pattern, and simply called out: "You're going the wrong way!"

As he had predicted, Sena skidded to a dead-stop, completely bewildered at being wrong, leading to a three high-schooler pile-up and many curses at the jumble of humanity they caused, blocking the walkway.

"Ow." Monta wheezed.

"Ow." Yamato agreed. "At least we caught him." He offered hopefully and picked himself up carefully.

Taka approached sedately, and offered a hand to both Sena and Monta to help pull them to their feet. "I don't believe you had gotten to the point of your story introducing the friend in question." He offered Sena tactfully.

Sena rubbed a skinned elbow ruefully. "I wasn't going the wrong way at all, was I? No, don't answer that." He raised a hand to ward off Yamato's attempt. "Yes, so then, Gokudera-kun and Takashi-kun." Sena nodded to Taka to lead the way. "Both Tsu-kun and I were really shy after we stopped playing together as kids, and Gokudera-kun and Takashi-kun were the first friends Tsuna made by himself. So, I just feel like I have to get them something excellent for their birthdays as a 'thank you for taking care of my brother' kind-of thing." Sena avoided eye contact and rambled.

"Sounds like they're excellent friends." Yamato said stoutly, with a firm conviction behind his voice.

"Yes." Sena agreed with a soft smile, eyes still not quite focused on the group. "I've missed so much with my little brother, I have a huge debt to those that filled in for me and created their own niche in his life."

Taka studied the current Eyeshield 21 with eyes that seem bottomless, weighing Sena's intentions against his past actions. Just as Sena was about to crack under the stress, and offer to go back to the station and apologize for being so greedy as to even think for an autograph, Taka spoke.

"It's no hardship to help one I consider a friend."

Sena gaped wordlessly. Did that mean Taka-san wasn't offended?

"Ah, but here's the school, and here's our drivers!" Yamato broke in cheerfully.

"As neither car is large enough to transport all four of us, I suggest that Yamato and Monta-kun ride in his car, and Sena-kun will ride with me. It will help to avoid further incidents." Taka ordered in the form of a suggestion.

Monta shrugged, and Yamato closed his mouth on the protest he was about to make.

"Well then, let's get moving." Yamato smiled his dazzling smile.

The trip was quiet, though not uncomfortably so, and just long enough for Sena to re-gather his composure and begin to psych himself out again over arriving at a national hero's home and asking for an autograph.

Thankfully, though, whenever Taka noticed Sena drifting into a shamed paralysis, he would make prosaic comment about current events, sports, or mutual acquaintances that would briefly take the short running back's mind off his terror, and for that, Sena was eternally grateful.

Taka had marvelous timing too, for just as the conversation died back down into the easy silence, but before he could start building his stress back up, they arrived at the gates of the Honjou mansion.

Sena tried his best not to gawk, but it was the literal mansion of one of the most popular icons in all of Japan. As the drivers slowly approached the house from the long driveway, Sena noticed a figure standing on the front step waiting for them. At first, he wondered if Taka had a proper British butler waiting for the young master's arrival from school, but as the cars inched closer and closer, the figure clarified.

"Taka-san, your father is standing on the front steps." Sena informed numbly.

"Hmm?" Taka questioned, slowly dragging his eyes from the book that he'd been reading when not conversing with Sena, and lifting his head from his palm where it was resting. Refocusing his gaze to the house, he nodded silently. "Yes. He likes to do that when he's not playing away games; plus, I told him you and Monta-kun would be visiting. He seemed very excited."

Sena shriveled farther down in his seat. No way Honjou-san really was excited to see him.

"Come on, then." Taka chided gently as the car came to a stop and he unclipped his seatbelt. "Whether you believe it or not, you did leave him with a favorable impression last time."

Sena took a deep breath, knowing there was no way to put this off, and carefully slid from the leather interior of the luxury car. As he straightened up, he meticulously tugged down the hem of his untucked uniform shirt, checked that the long sleeves were still rolled up to his slim upper arms, and reached up to tighten his loose tie. His school jacket had been left in his sport's locker – it was an American football club thing, leave it in your locker before afternoon practice and pull it on after morning practice. No one ever missed afternoon practice due to punishment for being out of uniform in Hiruma-san's club.

Finally running out of ways to delay, Sena looked up at Japan's national hero and his son, quietly conversing on the steps.

Feeling the Deimon running back's gaze finally reach him, Honjou reached out a hand to pat his son on the shoulder, and grinned enormously at Sena.

"It's great to see you again, Sena-kun, Monta-kun." He nodded at the receiver just exiting Yamato's car and waving at his hero in unabashed delight. "You really need to come around more often; I need couple of trusty spies in the Kanto region." He teased, "So, who looks good for the Christmas bowl?"

Sena smiled wanly and mounted the steps with his best friend and Yamato, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't come out awkward or cocky.

"Father, you can't really expect them to talk strategy this early in the season, and besides, Sena-kun and Monta-kun will be guarding their words carefully against members on the team in which they'll be battling this Christmas." Taka reasoned.

Houjou grinned at his son's deep respect for the Devil Bats, to the exclusion of obvious powerhouses like Oujou and Shinryuji.

"Even I couldn't get anything from Monta-kun during the ride." Yamato chimed in with a good-natured grin.

"Oh well," the baseballer shrugged. "Come on in to my study, and we'll chat for a bit, maybe over a bit of football _theory_." He raised his eyebrows and smiled with mock slyness.

That startled a laugh out of Sena that seemed to drain most of his tension from him. "I don't know, Honjou-san," he responded with just as false naïveté, "Most of Hiruma-san's _theory_ involves rocket-launchers."

Beside him, Monta cracked up. "It's funny 'cuz it's true!" He crowed.

Yamato's smile faltered a little at the reminder of the psychotic captain

Honjou chuckled warmly and opened the door to his study. "Sane or not, you have to admire his tactics and showmanship."

"Honjou-san." A voice called out in the hall.

Sena turned curiously to see who had called for his host, but Honjou simply shrugged and motioned to the door. "It's Nakamura-san's wife, our house keeper, I'll have her bring tea."

Still in the lead, Sena hesitated just inside the door, taking in the large study with the rich mahogany desk flanked by two burgundy-leather wing-back chairs and a two-seater couch directly in front of said desk, with upholstery of the same colored leather and ornately carved legs of the same wood as the imposing desk.

Neither intimidated nor confused, Taka brushed past his guest gently, and settled himself in the wing-backed chair on the right with an ease that suggested a favored chair. Politely, Sena trailed after him and lightly settled on the edge of the couch closest to Taka. Monta, with considerably less compunctions, settled down comfortably next to his best friend, leaving a frowning Yamato to take the wing-backed chair opposite Taka's.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with the handsome leather-bound books found in upper-class libraries, but not distaining regular cardboard-bound books, and Sena though he'd seen a few battered children's books tucked away carefully. On the desk in front of them was an ultra-modern high-tech laptop, currently shut, but angled off-center so that one sitting behind the desk with the computer open would still able to view all four guests, should the chair be filled. On the upper left corner of the desk, from Sena's view, sat a slim, sleek printer, with a steady blue light indicating wireless printing was ready.

Following the boys in, Honjou absently pushed back a stack of letters towards the laptop and his own chair, and instead perched upon his desk directly in front of Sena and Monta.

"So Taka told me a bit about why you came, but it's still a bit odd for Tokyo's Most Humble Player to come and take advantage of an acquaintance."

Sena sputtered and panicked despite Honjou's gently teasing smile.

"We made fun of him for _months_ after that article came out!" Monta crowed, and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!" Sena hissed, and elbowed his friend back harder. Satisfied by Monta's disgruntled 'oof', Sena finally started to try to answer the tricky question.

"I… fell like I have to do something, show somehow, how grateful I am that they're – both Takashi-kun and Gokudera-kun – in his life, and that he wasn't alone for as long as I was." His tone was more like he was trying to puzzle out his own reasons, taking some of the cutting loneliness out of his words.

Honjou leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. "They didn't become his friends for a reward, you know." His tone was conversational, but his eyes were weighing and measuring every action made by the young running back.

"I know!" Sena's eyes and volume rose in shock at even the suggestion. "But they're my friends too, and I want to do something nice for them, and even though I can't figure out Gokudera-kun, I know this will make Takashi-kun happy for sure!"

"Good answer." The baseball star smiled, and reclined backwards on his desk – narrowly missing several stacks of what looked to be _very_ important papers – and reached to open and rummage around in a drawer. "I don't exactly keep stacks of headshots around in the off chance that my and my son's friends decide to stop by for an autograph," He explained despite his words being muffled by being turned away, "so this'll have to do." He pulled out a rather professional looking camera, and shut the drawer behind him. As he untwisted himself and faced the boys again, he gave Sena a stern look.

"I'm doing this as a favor to a friend, but I have a condition I'd like you to agree to."

Sena bit his lip with nervousness. He knew he shouldn't have relaxed at Honjou's approval of his answer. "What would that be?"

Honjou smiled faintly with pride that the young man had more sense than to agree without reservation. "Taka's told me what you told him over the phone, and while I understand that without fanatics like Monta-kun and Takashi-kun, I wouldn't have a fanbase, I'll still have to ask you not to tell him where I live." He teased with an easy grin.

Sena nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry I brought him, then," He shrugged a shoulder back at Monta, who had just gotten the joke and his expression was slowly morphing from puzzlement to indignation. "But I can promise that if he ever tries to make a break for the station, I'll have Kurita-san sit on him."

Beside him, Taka let out a startled laugh, and quickly buried his head in his arms to hide his laughter – rather ineffectually, considering his entire frame was shaking at trying to hold it in.

"Traitor!" Monta thrust a finger in Sena's face dramatically, before pulling Sena into a headlock.

Honjou smiled and swiftly set up a mini-tripod and set the timer on the camera, before quickly moving behind the couch, and grabbing Yamato out of the chair to stand next to him.

Once the chaos had settled a little, and the snapshot was printed out, Honjou passed around a permanent marker and with a no-nonsense voice, instructed all of them to sign it. Emphasis on _all_, pointed look at Sena. That look, and the imposing figure the national sports star cut sitting behind his desk properly in order to print the photo from the printer, made Sena shut his mouth on his protestations and sign over his shirt in shaky hand writing.

"Now that that's settled," Honjou said, leaning back in his desk chair and intertwining his fingers over his chest, "who's looking good in your division?"

That simple question lead to hours of sports shoptalk, interrupted only by Nakamura, once to bring in the tea, and lasting until she came back to inquire whether or not the guests would be staying for dinner.

That simple question shocked Sena out of his lazy debate over how to train first years with Yamato and made him finally glance at the clock.

"When did it get so late?" He panicked, bolting to his feet. "We gotta go catch the train!" He tugged at Monta's arm, making the receiver look up at him oddly. "Com'on, the train." He tugged again, purposefully.

Monta glanced at the clock himself and cut off a swear word. "Thanks for having us, but we gotta get back." Monta said with real gratitude as he reached down for his school bag propped against the side of the couch.

"Are you sure you have to go?" Honjou asked with regret in his voice.

"You're more that welcome to stay the night, with either of us." Taka confirmed with a gesture to the nodding Yamato.

Sena bit his lip indecisively, but Monta came to his rescue.

"We still have school in the morning, and we've got a game Saturday. Hiruma will _murder_ us if we skip practice. But thanks."

"If Nakamura-san will ask Tanaka-san to pull the car around, then." Honjou sighed with a nod to the genuinely regretful-looking woman who nodded back and left with a small smile a wave to Sena and Monta.

"She's always so nice." Yamato smiled his dazzling smile, and stretched his long frame out of the chair. "Since I have to get going too, I'll drop you both off at the station."

With zealous gratitude and reassurances of welcome, Monta and Sena finally slid into the back seat of Yamato's car, with said owner riding shotgun with the driver. There wasn't much to be said after hours of conversation, so they made small talk about the trip up, the expected trip back, about where Monta and Sena should visit when they came to visit again, and promises to return the favor once Yamato and Taka visited Tokyo.

It was an easy conversation, and comfortable, which yielded an easy and comfortable good-bye at the station as the boys boarded the train and waved good-bye again as it pulled out of the station. The mood lasted the trip back – once again ignoring homework in favor of games – all the way to Monta walking with Sena to his house on Monta's way home.

Despite the comfortable mood, Monta's brows were knitted in contemplation. It didn't interrupt the flow of chatter, but Sena could tell his best friend's mind was somewhere else altogether and finally called him on it.

"Well," Monta hedged, "it just bothered me, how completely devoted you are to your brother, and to his friend."

Sena frowned, but refused to answer to a tinge of irritation that arises in all siblings when their loyalty is called into question. "He's my _brother._" He refuted, with a bit of heat.

"Not that!" Monta waved his arms in negation. "God knows I've met guys that would kick ass for messing with their family. But, this is… different somehow. This is you getting closer and closer, and us… getting farther away; like we're missing a good-sized chunk of your life now. Even during practice, your mind is somewhere else, and football used to be your life"

Monta frowned and leaned against the wall outside of Sena house while folding his arms behind his head and looked up, regarded the slowly darkening sky above them. "Something big is going down, Sena, something huge." He ignored how Sena's mouth opened and closed in vein, gaping for something to say.

"I thought we were best friends, and that best friends can tell each other anything" – Monta pushed through is bitterness and disappointment – "but I understand that some things you just have to work out for yourself. Let me know when you can let me know and how I can help." Monta unfolded his arms from behind his head and reached over to give Sena a hearty pat on the back. "I'll be waiting, bud."

* * *

A/N: This has been done for a while now, I just haven't gotten around to posting it because of school, so I'd like to apologize for the delay. Thank you all for following me for so long, we're in the home-stretch for reals, now. As always, I hope you enjoy and that you take the time to give me feedback about constructive criticism, how the story makes you feel, your speculations for the future, or anything else you could think to share.


	16. Chapter 16

I own neither KHR nor ES21.

Oh, and a shout-out to reviewer Minirowan for pointing out a flaw I intend to address later in the chapter. Thanks to everyone for following and reviewing.

* * *

Sena was benched. Which sucked. He knew he should have seen it coming, particularly considering the kidney shot he'd taken last weekend and had valiantly tried to ignore all week and all week's practices, but it was still a bummer to see half a team of freshmen out in his, Monta's, and the brothers' positions. At least the other second years–aside from Taki and Komusubi–weren't mad at him for getting them benched too. You can be sure that what Sena tries to hide from Hiruma the rest of the second years try to hide from Hiruma. Again, aside from Taki who was, quote, "Too fucking stupid to keep a secret," and Komusubi who was necessary to "Maintain discipline on the line though fanatical devotion, impossibly high standards, and scorn."

Or, at least, so went Hiruma's thought process.

Still: on the surface the brothers seemed to be taking it well. Toganou was reading a new comic, though his fingers twitched and he seemed to be examining the pages down to the smallest ink dot, considering how long he was taking before flipping the page. And Kuroki's constant stream of swearing was either due to repeated losses on his portable game device or due to him being benched. Juumonji seemed to be taking it the best. He was sprawled out on the bench next to Sena, just soaking up the sunshine.

"CATCH THE DAMN BALL!"

Monta, on the other hand, was taking it the worst.

He was pacing up and down the sideline, treating the game like a grudge match despite the fact he hadn't joined the team the first time the Devil Bats had battled the Cupids; waving his arms and shouting at his replacement, who, if not performing to Monta's standards (who could, really?), was doing quite well in his first game.

_It was a good thing we worked them so hard on the basics and on stamina_, Sena thought absently and brought a hand up to bite at a broken nail, _They're doing particularly well, considering the Cupids have gotten sloppy on their basics. But their freshmen are probably better than ours, right now…_

He jumped out of his skin as something came into contact with his thigh, then smiled thinly at Juumonji's smirk. The blond had lifted his legs up onto the bench and scooted down to knock into Sena, leaving his head snugged up against Sena's thigh.

"Sit up and stop bouncing your leg. You're shaking the whole bench." Juumonji scolded, not bothering to open his eyes.

Sena looked down at his leg in surprise and stopped the movement with no little chagrin. "Whatever, Juumonji, if you wanted a lap-pillow you should have just said so." He sniped back easily.

The teasing smirk never left Juumonji's face. "Don't mind if I do." He proclaimed airily and lifted his head onto his teammates lap, startling a laugh out of the running back.

"What's with the cat routine?" Sena gave up on trying to gnaw his nail smooth and instead dropped his hands to lean back further on the bench.

"If it gets you to stop bouncing like a five-year-old, it's worth it." The blond answered firmly.

"No, I meant: why are you so chill about getting benched?" Sena questioned back, and reached up to muss his already messy hair, only to wince when he felt strands get caught on the ragged edges of his thumb nail.

Juumonji folded his arms across his chest and heaved an exaggerated sigh, but deigned to answer anyway. "A few reasons, really. First: I don't have a problem with the Cupids. All their girlfriends are ugly, and I didn't play them last year, so I don't really care. My replacement is well trained, and if he fucks up he knows he'll be destroyed Monday. So, really, why not just nap in the sun?"

Sena snorted and reached down to tug at Juumonji's hair for being rude. The lineman scowled and batted Sena's hand away blindly, still not willing to open his eyes to the over-bright sun.

"Second:" Juumonji continued, "Hiruma's not going to reverse his punishment until he's good and ready, so bouncing around and whining won't help me get on the field any faster."

Sena wasn't sure, but he thought it sounded like Juumonji was stuffing down a note of longing in his last reason, so he dropped his hand to rest idly in the lineman's hair.

"And finally: if your brother's here, then his fan club is here. If his fan club is here, _your_ fan club is here. And it's really fun to annoy the shit out of them." The eldest huh-huh brother's smirk turned wicked.

Sena frowned, not entirely understanding why Tsuna's friends would be bothered about anything. He opened his mouth to question Juumonji, but was abruptly cut off.

"You bastards better be paying attention! I want a full analysis of the first half during half-time!" Hiruma howled from the field as they were lining up for the next play, making a couple Cupid second-years shiver and shy back in fear.

Juumonji lazily lifted an arm into the air and waved, but made no attempt to sit up from Sena's lap or to open his eyes. "Aye aye, captain." He called back sardonically.

Fortunately, the play clock was running out and Hiruma didn't have time for a retort aside from flipping the scarred lineman off.

Sena's lips again tightened into an approximation of a smile, but he dutifully turned his eyes to the field long enough to see his freshman, Kaito, rush through the gap of a sweep, avoid two linebackers, and score. Good boy, Sena nodded in approval.

His attention wandered, however, as Mushashi's kick arched, through Sena's line of vision, across the over-crowded metal bleachers trying to contain the spectators and advance scouts. What Sena didn't see was his brother. He knew Tsuna had promised to come, but Sena was a realist and expected plenty of broken promises–after all, his brother _was_ the successor of a major crime family—which was why Sena felt no disappointment when his careful eyes couldn't find the middle school mafioso in the stands. Gokudera probably had _fits_ about the security risk, anyway. Sena smiled a bit of a darkly amused smile.

"Broooooother!"

Sena felt a sick, cold ball drop to his stomach as some part of his mind acknowledged what was about to happen, and tried to calculate an escape route. Alas, his survival instincts short-circuited once Juumonji's head came into play, the unknown variable forcing desperate equations and risk-benefit recalculation to flash across his mind, freezing Sena into place and causing him to be tackled, from behind, over the bench, face-first into the turf.

Kuroki and Toganou looked up briefly at the commotion, but dismissed the situation as 'not bloody enough', and went back to pretending to ignore the game. Monta didn't pretend to care about anything but the game.

"MOTHER-FU–"

"Owwww, damn it, Tsuna!" Sena cut off Juumonji's rage, and though his instant injury review came up clear-ish (save for his re-scraped elbow), he still didn't move from where he had managed to end up with most of his thigh on Juumonji's chest and his stomach crushing the lineman's face. "That really hurt! Damn!" Despite Juumonji's 156 pounds of mostly muscle to Sena's measly 106, Juumonji didn't immediately throw the running back off. Grateful for Juumonji's caution and consideration at the off-chance that Sena might have been injured worse than he was, and careful not to let Juumonji up too quickly lest he extract revenge, Sena slowly pushed himself up of the ground as far as he could go – read: not very far at all – and twisted his back awkwardly to scold the aforementioned lineman-wannabe sitting on his legs.

"Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?" Sena reproached the still-grinning boy contently chilling on Sena's legs below the knee.

"You're a player; you should have dodged it." The younger mahogany brunet teased.

"No one is going to tackle you sitting down on the field." Came a dry, muffled reply from Juumonji.

"Now, now Tsuna, I know half of the people here want to jump him too, but you haven't even bought him dinner!"

With the barest wisps of a blush floating to the surface of his cheeks, Sena craned his neck farther to see Yamamoto leaning casually upon the backrest of the bench that he and Juumonji had just been occupying. Yamamoto's good-natured grin _sparkled_ in the sun, Sena noted as he tried to decide whether he should be impressed or disgusted by the squeaky-clean and refreshing All-Japanese image the middle schooler seemed to be projecting, but before he could make up his mind, he saw the gleam in the swordsman's eyes belying his sincerity.

Tsuna scrambled to his feet and grinned uncertainly, his arm reaching up and rubbing the back of his opposing forearm in an unconscious nervous tick.

Sena frowned slightly. As uncomfortable–understatement–as it was to be tackled from behind and to be crushed face-first into both his teammate and the turf, it was still the first glimpse of the old Tsuna that Sena had known from when they had played together as children; the mischievous and unrepentant Tsuna, not the downtrodden three-international-incidents-short-of-a-nervous-breakdown,-in charge-of-the-weight-of the-Skies-Tsuna. That was a Tsuna that he had very much missed; not that he disliked the new Tsuna, but Sena just wished he were able lift a little of that weight from his brother's shoulders, and he thought he had managed that to an extent by fighting back as a brother would.

Pushing aside the philosophizing, Sena sat up and mindlessly leaned back, resting against a just-risen Juumonji in a gesture of long-familiarity brought about by hard-earned companionship learned on the Devil Bat's Death March, and opened his mouth to chastise the baseball star for taking that little bit of childishness away from Tsuna, but Juumonji beat him to it.

"That's sick, man." He drawled antagonistically, "I mean, don't project your lust for Sena onto his _brother_."

Sena tried to mask his smile, grateful that Juumonji had read the tenseness in his shoulders resting against his side, but a little weary of showing too much amusement and humiliating Takashi-kun.

"No, Yamamoto's right, I was out of line –" Tsuna started.

"Sena-senpai, I don't know why you put up with this kind of –" Yamamoto's voice overlapped heatedly.

A loud, piercing whistle cut them off, followed by Yamamoto narrowly ducking to avoid a helmet thrown at his head.

"If you assholes don't shut the fuck up, I won't miss next time. And fucking baseball-idiot, go pick that up or go back to the stands." Hiruma barked, and threw himself down onto the bench while accepting a paper cup of water from Mamori and ignoring the 'language lecture'.  
Hiruma dumped the water over his head and shook it off, much like his devil dog. In the process of soaking his lineman and running back, he caught sight of Tsuna.

"So the fucking doppleganger is back." He said carefully, and stole another cup off Mamori's tray and sipped at it. "I'm glad I took out a life insurance policy on you." The quarterback pointed a creepily long finger at the running back still lounging on the short-cropped turf at his feet.

Tsuna sputtered in indignation at the implication, but couldn't form a complaint before Yamamoto came trotting back with Hiruma's helmet, his good-natured mask firmly in place.

"Here, senpai, sorry for bickering." He apologized sincerely through his insincere grin, and stubbornly ignored Taki's bragging about how no insurance company would ever be able to pay out a life insurance policy for him, and wouldn't want to take the chance, even though he was invincible.

Hiruma grunted and took the headgear back. "I'm changing the line-up."

"Yeah!" Cheered Toganou, dropping the pretense of reading.

"Yeeeah!" Cheered Juumonji, bolting to his feet, and leaving Sena to tumble to the sun-hardened turf without a backrest.

"Awww yeaaaaah!" Cheered Kuroki, tossing his game system onto his duffel and joining a three-way fist bump.

The bench-warmers had snapped to attention like hunting dogs hearing the tread of their master approaching the kennel. Down time was all well and good, but there was fresh meat to be found on the field. The Cupid's freshmen were holding their own against the Deimon freshman, but each of the brothers could already feel the rush of the hunt, the surge of falling upon the untested line and utterly destroying them. The puppies were good at playing with the kitties, but the true hell-hounds would worry their heels and rip, tear, rend, and revel in watching their pack-mate lope through the once-defenses.

"Idiot brothers, you're back on, mini-fatass is benched."  
Komusubi let out a heavy sigh of disappointment, but accepted the comforting pat on the back from his master and trudged his way to sit on the turf by Sena's side. At least he'd gotten half a game out of it, and hadn't broken and become the poster-boy for tattling to the team captain.

"Monta..."

Monta perked up.

"Is still benched."

Said boy slumped to the ground with a groan completing the Deimon chibi trio.

"Taki's still on." The demonic captain ran though a mental list, and ignored the stupid laughter of the stupid corner back. "And it goes without saying that fucking shorty's still out. Idiot brother's replacements, you're all benched, except for fish-lips'." Hiruma paused to take another drink and eyed the frozen panorama of players surrounding him. He pursed his lips in annoyance as he lowered the cup. "Well? Go warm up! Fucking morons..." He muttered to himself as the scattered.

"You." He turned his burning eyes to Sena. "I don't care if your idiot-doppleganger and his idiot friends hang around, but pay fucking attention this time."

"Why?" Sena sassed back lazily. "There's nothing my replacement can teach me, and now that Juumonji, Kuroki, and Toganou are on the field, you're just going to crush them mercilessly. …Again." He added as an afterthought.

Hiruma crumpled up the paper cup and launched it at his running back's head with enough force that it made Sena sway backwards slightly, despite the material of the missile.

"As fucking bad as that fucking moron." The demonic blond made a vague gesture to the side indicating Taki, making the first years squirm by doing the splits. "Bringing out our big guns will bring out theirs, and if we hit them as a wild-card team in the tournament later..."  
Sena nodded solemnly, his light-heartedness dissolved. He should know better than to write off a team for being young or having been weak the previous year.

"Sorry, captain." He apologized gravely.

"Think a-fucking-head. You need to be five moves ahead when they're thinking two moves ahead if you want the Devil Bats to survive next year." He skirted around naming Sena next year's de-facto captain.

Sena nodded. "Kuroki's replacement is good, but he's a show off. Use Toganou's, he's more team oriented."

"Yeah, but also more dependent on upperclassmen." Hiruma disagreed, but didn't look displeased with Sena's assessment.

"Compromise, use Kurita's. He never gets field time, and I think he has real potential." Sena said, eyes on the field but unfocused, turned inward for player analysis. "He's tough, so I don't think he'd do what mine did, but if he does, he's got four of our strongest out there to force him back together."

"I always forget we have that spineless fucker." Hiruma commented idly. "Yeah, this could force him out of the shadows and earn himself a name. Way to not fuck up." He threw the last comment at Sena, climbed to his feet, and stalked off.

Sena glowed at the praise and accepted the back pats of congratulations from his fellow shorties.

Tsuna and Yamamoto watched tamely from the bench as the second half kicked off, but were more interested in watching the trio gradually break off and drift apart; Monta and Kumosubi to yell at the first years, leaving Sena half-reclining with his back on the seat of the metal bench, idly watching the plays.

"So, Sena-senpai..." Yamamoto started with false nonchalance.

"Ciaossu." Reborn cut in with a malevolent sparkle in his eye directed at Yamamoto as he and a grumpy Gokudera joined them.

Sena briefly glanced up, but other than an abbreviated nod, he was focused on the game.

"So, Sena," Reborn started with false nonchalance, "When are you coming to Italy with us for training? Should I pencil you in for this weekend?"

Gokudera watched in vague interest and idly wondered if Sena would develop whiplash as the newest Vongola jerked his head around to the only slightly evil baby.

"I! You! But...!" Sena took three deep breaths, then, on the last exhale, shook his head calmly. "Reborn-kun, it's the first month of school, and more importantly, it's the middle of the spring season. You know I can't just walk off now." He reasoned.

Reborn's amusement soured, despite catching the tail end of Gokudera shoving Yamamoto off of the bench so that he could sit on the boss's right.

"Right now, you're not good enough to join the Vongola." Reborn threw a jab strait at Sena's inadequacy complex, which landed so resoundingly that even Tsuna winced.

"I've already given up so much for football, now you're cutting that out of my life too?" Sena's voice was a mix of plaintive and indignant.

Tsuna jumped blindly in. "_I_ haven't even been to Italy! We can put this off until we graduate, can't we?" Tsuna demanded and pleaded in equal parts, only to quail back from the hitman's intense stare.

"If you want Sena to die in his first 'for-keeps' battle, than that's fine with me. I just wish you would have told me before I had spent so much time and effort bringing him in." Reborn let some heat slip into his voice unintentionally revealing his frustration.

"That's hardly fair -" Sena tried to defend, but was cut off.

"Why not summer?" Gokudera offered in irritation. "Duh."

The other four glared at him.

"Sports training." Yamamoto chimed in.

"Sports training." Sena echoed.

"Not nearly enough time." Reborn growled.

"That's why graduation-" Tsuna protested.

"Gods, you wouldn't know I was the one deprived of nicotine." Gokudera grumped.

"Hey, yeah." Sena realized, "That's great! Good for you, Gokudera-kun!" He enthused.

"... Didn't do it for you." He mumbled and looked away, but a pleased blush crept up his ears unhindered.

"So, next weekend, right?" Reborn tried, casually.

"Listen, Reborn-kun, I knew I would have to receive some kind of combat training the moment I requested to be Tsukun's outside advisor, my only issue is the timing." Sena tried to reason.

"No, _you _listen. We can't just leave you untrained, what if there's a threat to Dame-Tsuna? What are you going to do, just watch dumb and dumber get their asses kicked? They barely won their last fights!"

Twin choruses of 'Hey!' could be heard from the bench.

Sena let out a weary sigh. "Give me some time to think about it." He conceded finally.

Reborn pressed his lips into a dissatisfied slant, but nodded minutely. "In the meantime, give some thought to what kind of weapon you'd like, or that you think you'd be suited to."

Sena gave him a thoughtful look, then a nod of his own.

"Wait... Since when do Gokudera-kun and Takshi-kun know that I've joined?" The thought struck Sena, just as he was turning back to his own new recruits.

"You think these gossipy little girls can keep a secret?" Reborn nodded to the indignant three on the bench.

"If you're not going to fucking assess, get on the fucking field!" Hiruma raged from said fucking field, hellfires burning so fiercely and the brimstone raining so thickly that it was reminiscent of the end times and even the usually stoic referees danced back and forgot to motion to the scorekeeper to start the play clock, or to penalize Deimon a time-out.

Sena stared at the field. "Gods, please let me have my immortal soul back some day." He muttered to himself, grabbed his helmet with infamous eyeshield, slammed it on and hustled out to destroy what was left of the Cupids.

[]o[]O[]o[]

"So, Reborn wants me to go to Italy." Sena mentioned casually while changing next to Hiruma in the back of the Devil Bat trailer. They really _had_ to start playing on real fields soon.

"... The fuck?" Hiruma responded, arms still tangled up in his mesh jersey that he'd just pulled over his head, a look of perfect incredulous bewilderment on his face, momentarily forgetting the discomfort of sweat dripping down his chest and soaking into the padding.

"Yeah," Sena replied with faux-nonchalance and grabbed a can of spray deodorant off his locker shelf, "Tsukun's gotten mixed up with some weird stuff, and Reborn wants me to go to Italy to learn how to fight." He fiddled with the lid covering the nozzle of the deodorant and looked up through his lashes trying to gauge his captain's reaction.

Slowly, Hiruma lowered his arms and flawlessly flicked the jersey into the dirty laundry bin across the way, then pulled off the padding contemplatively. "How do I put this?" Hiruma muttered to himself as he rummaged through his locker for a cleanish smelling towel. "No fucking way." He finished and wiped down his defined chest. That sweat was getting really fucking irritating.

Sena's jaw and deodorant dropped. "Why not?" He demanded.

"Disregarding the fact that you just implied that you've committed yourself to something that's putting your golden legs—the legs that I still have use for, incidentally—in harm's way, why the fuck can't you learn how to fight in Japan? Those fucking moron brothers have been offering for at least half a year." Hiruma calmly argued, rubbing his golden hair vigorously with the towel.

"This is completely different." Sena tried to resume his earlier facade of nonchalance by swooping to retrieve the can. He rose and sprayed on the deodorant, replaced the lid, and replaced the can on the shelf methodically, before pulling on one of his jogging shirts he had shoved into his bag this morning. "For one thing, it's not exactly street brawling that I'll be learning." He hinted.

Hiruma looked down at Sena with an intense, measuring gaze, the captain's towel now idly slung over a shoulder. "I think you should know that I have your phone tapped, before we go any further."

Sena smiled weakly. "You really think I'm a freshman? I even heard you hang up. That was sloppy." Even his jokes were weak.

"You'd be surprised how much you can learn about someone, and their _family,_ just by having a unique last name. And, of course, a crest." Hiruma returned carefully. A lion circling a gazelle, wondering if it was weak or sick enough to minimize the energy output and maximize the caloric intake.

"No I wouldn't, not if it's the name of an internationally renowned crime family." Sena retorted looking Hiruma directly in the eyes.

Hiruma exhaled sharply and made an abrupt motion with his hand. Suddenly pulled out of the silent war, Sena noticed that Hiruma's hand motion had lead to the rest of the original eleven, who were rushing the clueless and protesting freshmen out the door of the trailer and straggling over to a bench nearby to stare at a half-changed Sena and their shirtless quarterback.

"Team meeting." Hiruma said simply.

"So." Sena started awkwardly. "I joined the mafia." _No big deal_, he added mentally with dark humor.

Silence reigned.

It was a long reign.

Finally, as the old king was about to pick a successor, Komusubi carefully looked around the crowded and stuffy semi-trailer and evaluated his teammates faces. Aside from Sena's awkward-sardonic-wreck, Komusubi couldn't really get good read. He looked directly into Sena's eye, and grunted out one word.

"Bullshit."

Anarchy erupted in the well-ordered kingdom.

"Wait-wait-wait." Juumonji protested. "Are we talking Yukuza, or are we talking fedora-wearing, spaghetti-eating, 'You come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married and you ask me to do murder - for money,' mafia?" He insisted, ever practical.

"No, wait, before that, the fedora—and the suits—could you describe them, so I could sketch them?" Togano demanded, a manic gleam in his eye that suggested a new manga project coming to mind.

"No! Before that! Damn it; we offered to teach you how to fight! Why would you go to some other punk-ass kid and beg, dumbass?" Kuroki raged.

"I don't think that's a very funny joke, Sena." Yukimitsu frowned disapprovingly.

"It's… It's not a joke." Sena returned, quietly.

The king's frail, charred hand emerged from the rubble reaching for his once cherished thrown of awkward silence. Only to be kicked down again by the rebels.

"Bu… But Sena…" Kurita wibbled, "Isn't that… dangerous?"

"Well, yeah… kinda." Sena admitted, reaching up to scratch at his neck and catch a glance at Hiruma out of his peripheral vision.

No help there, though. Hiruma was staring down at his running back's back as expressionlessly as Shin.

"But, well, I guess he hasn't told you, and I don't know that it's my right to… but…" Sena stumbled.

"Spit it out, you damn bastard!" Kuroki huffed.

"Well, someone really important to me is really tied up in the Italian mafia, and I just… really want to protect that person." Sena dropped his arm to his side and stood firmly.

"No."

Eleven heads turned to look at the speaker, having forgotten anyone but the starting lineup was in the trailer.

"No. I've watched you get hurt on the field. I've watched you limp home from practice and I don't say a _word_. I can't watch _my_ little brother hurt himself anymore. I can't. Don't ask me to.

Mamori had risen from her seat where she had been valiantly attempting to enter data and stats into the team's laptop, and was standing, trembling, watching Sena with hurt, pleading, determined eyes.

"Mamori-nee."

The manager's back stiffened ramrod-straight at the gentleness of her younger brother's tone, and she stalked off to the double-doors of the trailer, refusing to listen to the excuses that usually followed that tone.

"Mamori-nee."

She paused with her hand on the latch. It was the same gentle tone, but with a backing of steel.

"I'm not asking." Sena said quietly, though it echoed and rang off the trailer-slash-locker room walls.

The door slammed behind Mamori on her way out.

Torn, Monta whipped his head around between his damsel in distress and his best friend.

"I had wondered why you were acting off lately." He aimed at Sena, though kept his eyes on the door. "And while I can't approve of you hurting Mamori-san this way, I can't disapprove of something that you're so determined to protect; something that you'd face even that devil down for.

"So what's going to change? Are you going to drop out of school and chase people around on motorcycles? Are you just going to develop an overwhelming desire for pasta and cultivate a bad Italian accent?" Monta teased weakly.

"I… I think I need to go to Italy." Sena's voice trembled, but he still stood firm. "To learn how to terrorize people on motorcycles."

Monta nodded in acknowledgement of the joke, but was cut off by Kurita's cry.

"Italy! Italy, Sena-kun! But it's so far away! And what… What about football?" He voice trailed off, hampered by tears gather in his eyes.

"I have to learn how to fight if I want to protect… the people I want to protect." Sena answered. "I won't half-ass it, but I think-I just think, mind, I still have to talk it over, but I think I can get it done over the summer, the training- fight training, by then." Sena replied haltingly.

"So you'll be back in time for the fall tournament?" Toganou demanded more than asked, not stopping to glance back at his exiting teammate.

"Even if he is," Hiruma cut in, "he wouldn't play." He held a hand up to forestall the cries of protest already involuntarily wrenched from his team. "It was the same last year in the death march. If you can't or won't practice with the team, you can't play with the team. "If you're willing to risk dying just to become stronger, tear up your tickets to heaven and come with us to hell," remember?"

Sena let out a sharp exhale and turned away. "That's fair." He said, tone calm but voice thick.

"No, damn it, it's not!" Juumonji jumped in. "What if one of us had summer lessons, huh? Would you cut us out of the team then?" He demanded.

"Yes." Flames surrounded Hiruma, and brimstone hailed from a non-existent sky, leaving the team captain a mere silhouette against a backdrop of hell. And effectively prevented the team from reading his expression.

"No. I agree. Monta, you'd better head out if you want to catch up with Mamori-nee. I think she'd prefer to talk to you than me." He tried a sad parody of a smile, before giving it up as a bad job and instead adopting a more serious look, and reached into his locker to stuff his duffle-bag full so he could leave. He pushed away a stray thought asking if he still had the right to call her that after how badly he'd hurt her.

Monta looked at Sena's back, but Sena determinedly ignored him so he grabbed his packed bag and went to the double doors himself. "I don't really understand." Monta admitted with a bit of a sigh, "but there's a lot in life that I don't, so I won't let that get me down. Come to me whenever, Sena, when you want to talk." He offered, before swinging himself down to find his lady-love.

"Your call." Mushashi offered blandly, shouldered his duffle, and followed Monta out with a stony look that implied judgment but concealed the verdict.

Sena smiled a creaky, hopeful smile and moved to follow his friends to the doors.

"Sena."

Sena froze in dread at the call of the one person who hadn't yet weighed in.

"Be careful in Italy, I made a few enemies last time by refusing the position of 'Godfather'." Taki advised in a tone meant to be wise.

Sena angled his head down to hide a hopeless grin at his good-natured idiot-friend. "Thanks, Taki." Sena offered sincerely, and dropped out the doors.

[]o[]O[]o[]

The next day began with Sena losing the battle with his hair as usual, and an unusual email on his cell phone.

"Sena meet me at the café at 10"

Now, the message itself wasn't that unusual, nor the sender—Juumonji would often meet up with Sena in the morning outside of club activities, just to hang out. The location wasn't that unusual either, just a small café halfway between their two residences that they'd meet at when they had plans, or just wanted someone to sit and drink a cup of coffee with, but, really, considering the note upon which they'd last seen one another, it did make the request slightly unusual.

With a last exasperated headshake, Sena snagged a messenger bag from beside his bed and carefully tucked Yamamoto's present away before he headed out for the day.

He clomped down the stairs noisily, and called out a greeting to his parents as he bypassed the kitchen to get to his shoes.

"Sena, don't you want breakfast?" His mother asked in concern as she peeked her head out of the kitchen doorway and frowned with worry at her son.

"Thanks, but I'm meeting Juumonji-kun at the café. I'll probably pick up something there." He smiled up at her as he tied his shoes.

"If you're sure." She replied, but her brow was still drawn up in concern.

"Mihae, leave the boy alone."

Sena smiled at his father still seated in the kitchen.

"Thanks, Dad!" He called back and straightened up while adjusting his bag's strap so it hung across his shoulders more comfortably. "And I'll probably be out for the rest of the day, Tsukun's friend is having a party for his birthday, and I'm going to eat there."

"Oh? He's feeding you?" Mihae tried to dig subtly, but was miserably transparent.

"Mihae, for goodness' sake…" Shiyuma sighed, and appeared behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her. "Run, Sena, quickly, while I distract her!" He urged dramatically, with a fond smile.

"Shiyuma!" Mihae scolded with a matching smile.

"Who knows? Maybe with our beloved son out of the house for the rest of the day, we could go out on a date." He teased.

Sena held back a smile at his father's intervention and their obvious affection, and instead pulled a bratty grimace. "Gross! At least wait until I'm out of the house."

"Go on, then, shoo!" His mom laughed, leaning into her husband's hold.

Sena was still smiling as he pulled the door shut behind him. It was nice to have his home life normal, at least in the face of the recent chaos.

As he pulled the gate shut behind him, his phone chimed with a second message from Juumonji, a terse follow-up to the original email asking him to instead head to the park a block down from the coffee shop, and promising a latte and pain au chocolat in return for the change in plans.

Sena sent back the all-clear and picked up the pace. He'd do much, much worse things for French pastries.

[]o[]O[]o[]

He arrived at the park with at least ten minutes to spare. Juumonji had anticipated that—either because Juumonji knew that the park was marginally closer to Sena's house, or because he knew that Sena's default speed was 'insanely fast', or simply because Juumonji was known to be holding a white bakery bag and a thermal cup of bitter-sweet coffee, Sena wasn't sure.

As Sena approached the bleach-blond lineman, Sena slowed. Something was off about his fellow Devil Bat. He took in the scene as he slowly approached the bench upon which Juumonji sat. The scarred ex-delinquent was sprawled out over most of the bench, like usual, arms over the back, legs akimbo—but one tapping a fast-pace random tattoo, fidgeting with high-strung nerve like… And the blond head wasn't watching Sena approach, it was, instead, looking off at the distant playground, scowling and glaring at the hoards of noisy, running children and death-glaring at any children unlucky enough to come anywhere near him to retrieve a mis-thrown or kicked ball.

"…Juumonji, what number is that?" Sena asked, nodding to the cup dangling in Juumonji's right hand, referring to the café's refill policy.

"…three or four. Maybe five." Juumonji didn't look over at the shorter brunet, but his glares were more a mask of his embarrassment now.

"That's like, between 36 and 60 ounces of coffee, right?" Sena commented far too innocently as he finally seated himself beside his friend and reached for the other cup and the bakery bag sitting on the bench between them.

Juumonji grunted.

"Have you slept at all?" Sena accused suspiciously, taking in the dark bags under his eyes and silently estimating how long it would take for his teammate to gulp down that much caffeine.

"Yeah. But I've been up since about four." Juumonji answered carelessly.

"Well, then, let's get this over with." Sena fished out the pain au chocolat and bit into it with a blissful sigh, "What about the mafia do you want to talk about?"

"Are you really quitting the team?"

Sena's dry mouth made it difficult to swallow the buttery pastry. _Well, directness begets directness_, he dismissed sardonically and sipped at his coffee.

"If I must." He finally admitted. "I want to be there for Tsuna."

"But!" Juumonji snapped his mouth shut and instead glared at the distant kids some more. Finally, he tried again. "I think you're taking this too lightly. This is the fucking mafia. This is 'bang-bang shoot 'em up' coke deal gone bad'. This is you dealing with more weapons than even Hiruma handles in a day. This is killing kids who have seen too much. This is…" Juumonji threw himself upright off the bench and started pacing agitatedly in front of a surprised and mildly worried Sena.

"Alright. Let's say there's a man: this man is a horrible, horrible person. He was married and had a couple kids, but he beat his wife and abused the kids, until the wife wised up and ran away taking the kids. This guy also has a heroin addiction and a collection of guns that he has been heard talking about using on his ex-wife and kids if he ever finds them. This man is also employed by his best friend. He is absolutely, implacably loyal to his best friend. His best friend says 'kill yourself', the man asks how his best friend wants him to dispose of his body. The man has never shown up high to work, never back-talked his best friend unless it was in his friend's interest and has killed for and would die for his best friend.

"Your job, given to you by your brother-boss, is to kill him."

Juumonji stopped directly in front of Sena and his dark eyes drilled into the running back's. Sena felt a chill down his spine, as though the lineman were trying to read his mind or his soul from the weight of the gaze.

"Can you do it, Sena? Can you kill this contemptible, admirable man? Can you kill a man who is your aspirations of loyalty and the incarnation of the dregs of society? Can you carry out a hit for your little brother, Eyeshield?"

Sena tore his eyes from Juumonji's intense stare and started tracing the rim of his cup with a finger. He was quiet just long enough to make the scarred lineman wonder if he was going to receive an answer at all.

"I…" Sena paused to clear his throat. "I don't know." Sena said firmly, and raised defiant eyes to his friend. "And I don't think I will know until I'm looking that contemptible, admirable man in the eyes. I don't think it's possible for me to know until I know."

"That kind of thinking _will_ get you killed." Juumonji reminded him quietly.

"That, I do know." Sena replied gently, and nodded at the bench beside him, hoping the bleach-blond would take the hint so he wouldn't have to keep craning his neck up. "I understand that. And that's why I have to take Reborn up on his offer. I need to learn how to fight, to see if I can learn how to kill. I need to learn whether or not I'm even an acceptable candidate for an outside advisor."

Juumonji dropped down onto the bench with a grunt and was silent for a long time.

Sena didn't dare to look up and try to read his face, not with such a half-assed answer.

"Well…" Sena peeked over to his friend as he heard him breaking the stretched silence, "well, I guess I prefer 'I don't know' to a too-quick yes or no. I would have doubted you or hated you, I think, if you had answered too quickly.

"But leaving the team, Sena?" Juumonji said plaintively. "Leaving the team for murder and INTERPOL's most wanted?"

"I know." Sena answered in a quiet voice, eyes on his coffee rather than the blond. "The team has been everything to me. Given everything to me. Friends, real confidence, skill... everything." He looked up, eyes burning fiercely, "It hurts like hell, but I _must_ do this.

Juumonji's gaze was less intense, but no less earnest. "We don't want you to leave. Sena-" He halted to make sure that he had Sena's undivided attention and eye-contact.  
The running back almost couldn't bare the gentle, sincere expression on the usually gruff linebacker.

"Sena, _I_ don't want you to leave."

"I... Uh... do you mean...? You _do_ mean...? Oh." Sena said wonderingly. "Oh. Oh, wow. I don't even... Can... Can I take some time to think about this?" He asked frankly, physically looking at Juumonji, but his thoughts obviously turned inward, face set in the same mask of determination he wore every time he had a challenge to puzzle out on the field.

Damning the hope that bloomed at Sena's understanding expression and open-minded words, Juumonji laughed an awkward laugh, and stood.

"Don't feel pressured, just because… I mean, I just wanted to say, in case you really did go…" the bleach-blond ran a hand through his hair and sighed in aggravation. "Well, thanks, I guess, for not being an asshole about it, at least." He settled on. "Yeah, I'm just going to go, uh, get more coffee, then."

Sena nodded, and watched Juumonji stalk off, silently hoping that he wouldn't really go for coffee. Couldn't caffeine blow up your heart or something?  
Physically and in his thoughts turning away from the blond, Sena settled down for some serious introspection.

_Well, huh._ That just smashed his stereotypes to bits. But Juumonji? The gruff ex-delinquent that had been the bane of Sena's very existence as recently as two years ago? Could any one person be any more contrary to the image of a feminine man with a lisp that flirted with creeped out straight men?

As Sena stared off into space, he could feel his cheeks heat with a blush. How embarrassing to have thought of all gay men as flamboyant queens, when by his side this whole time was a rough, tough, former delinquent who had his eyes on, and out for Sena?

_Step one: Reconcile my idea of "gay people" to who "gay people" really are. _Sena absently stuck out a thumb to begin counting steps on his "How the Hell to Deal With This" list.

_Step two: How do I _feel_ about this?_ He ticked on an index finger.

Out of the gate, Sena couldn't shake a feeling of dread. _Am I going to lose one of my precious few friends because of this?_ He wondered. And, to be brutally honest with himself, _is it alright to be a little... grossed out?_ Sena wondered. _Would that make me a bad person? It's not like I know a lot about being gay, most of what I know comes from—ironically—locker room humor, but the physical reality just kinda... squicks me. _He physically squirmed in place a little bit contemplating it. Not that regular sex wasn't messy, but gay sex seemed kinda... graphic, for lack of better word. With a surreptitious sweep of his surroundings and a glancing, paranoid thought of mind-readers, he tucked away that thought, filing it under 'things to think about when I have complete privacy and maybe a browser I can wipe after I research'.

_Step two point five: psycho-analytics, cont._

On the other hand, it was kinda flattering. The guy who tormented him for years and is currently one of his best friends _likes_ him? That's a little awesome.

_Step three: The less physical mess. _Middle finger stuck out as a placeholder.

On the other _other_ hand, the questions that came with the confession were dizzying. _Societal issues, career issues—that one can probably be sub-filed under societal issues—legal issues... Oh, and, of course, what the hell _I_ think of all of this._ He sighed deeply. It really was hard to take life as it comes when life stopped throwing curveballs and started aiming for the batter. He shook his head, _Too much time around Takashi-kun. And speaking of, how long until he decides to confess to me too? I don't think it's been hero worship since, what, the arcade?_ He sighed and shook his head. _That's a list I can flesh out later._

_Step four: When the hell did that start anyway? _He ticked off on his ring finger.

He wished he could say that he hadn't seen it coming at all, that he was absolutely blind-sided by Juumonji's stumbling non-confession, but there had been signs—oh, little signs—that Sena had assumed that he had been reading too far into, but couldn't shake the implications of. Just what implications, exactly, he couldn't have told you at the time, but the little things: like treating Sena like 'one of the guys', yet not pulling some of the crueler pranks that he would pull on his other teammates and underclassmen without remorse, buying him the little treats that he knew that the running back liked, even when Sena didn't remember mentioning his preferences; in retrospect, those little things bespoke a lot of silent watching, at minimum.

And if the book he'd found at Mamori-nee's house was anywhere near accurate, there were the hallmarks of male flirting: standing taller, hands on belt, preening... He hadn't thought a thing about it before. Well, he had, but what teenager didn't posture like that? He knew that he stood with an eye to how many more meager millimeters he could eek out sometimes.

Absently, Sena stared down at his pinky finger.

_Step five: draw a conclusion._  
As he stared down at his empty, fully extended hand he realized with no little wonder that even with the paranoia and without the secure internet browsing, step five might have been the easiest step.

[]o[]O[]o[]

"Hello?" Sena called out as he ducked into Takesushi, "I know I'm a bit early, but I thought I might help...?" He more questioned than offered. He was greeted by the rather mind-bending sight of Gokudera meandering around on the floor of the restaurant, half-assedly tidying the shop in a frilly apron.

Sena tried to choke down his snickers, but the only thing he could come up with was, "At least it's white, not pink?"

"Stupid fucker." Gokudera mumbled, but it lacked the real heat that usually signaled the beginning of the bomber's attempts at murder. "Go bother that idiot's dad if you think you can be useful in any way. He's in the back." He added as an afterthought, slouching on the broom he'd been using more to push dust around than to clean.

"Takashi-kun and Tsukun?"

"The boss is distracting that idiot over at his house so that the dumbass doesn't fuck up his own surprise party." The foul-tempered Italian grumped.

"Right." Sena agreed, mirth still lingering in his voice and causing Gokudera to scowl. "I'll just head on back, then." He nodded, slipping past and heading for the prep kitchen.

"Um, excuse me!" The running back called well in advance, hoping to avoid startling a full-grown man with—theoretically—several large knives.

The teenager rounded the corner wearily, and paused in the doorway. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a quick flash, and some vegetables tumbling to a waiting plate.

"Ah! Sena-kun! My Takashi talks about you all the time!" A tall but slim man greeted with the same cheerful charm of his aforementioned son.

Sena ducked his head modestly. "Honestly, the knowledge that I have fans at all overwhelms me, let alone star athletes and all-around cool guys like Takashi-kun." He deflected. "But putting that aside, I inconvenienced you by showing up so early in the hopes that I could be of some use during the set-up. Especially seeing as you're also being so kind as to feed me and my friends.

"Not at all, not at all!" Tsuyoshi boomed, waving away the high-schooler's formal words with his free hand. "When Hayato-kun mentioned _you_ coming, let alone _all _of Takashi's favorite team, I was delighted! But I'll have to insist that you let us hang your picture on the wall so we can show off to our regulars a little." He laughed. "And I will shamelessly take you up on that offer of help."

Sena smiled back at the chef's infectious cheer. "I'm at your disposal, Yamamoto-san."

"You'll regret that offer, Sena-kun." Tsuyoshi teased. "There's a recipe on the refrigerator: would you mind setting out the proper amounts of each ingredient so I can just throw it all together after I finish this chopping?"

"Hai, Sensei." Sena quipped, and looked around for a spot to prop his messenger bag.

Tsuyoshi noticed his dilemma and nodded at the door. "There are some hooks mounted on the back of the door; you can hang your bag there and grab an apron if you'd like."

Slightly relieved, Sena stepped in and swung the door around, only to pause at the sight. "…Hayato-kun said you only had one apron left."

Tsuyoshi let out a low snicker. "You really think Takashi would wear a frilly apron? No, an old serving girl left that behind when she went to college; I just like tormenting Hayato-kun."

Sena smiled back and exchanged his bag for a heavy, unbleached canvas apron. As he turned to the counter with the various ingredients, measuring implements, and containers of various sizes, he could have sworn he had again caught a sheen of metal and more tumbling vegetables.

"You know, you really are helping me out," assured Takashi's dad, "anymore, I'm getting old and slow to even chop turnips." He laughed.

"I'm sure that's not true," Sena told the containers, "when you start losing fingers, _then_ maybe it's time to retire, but for now I'm sure you're fine."

That startled a laugh out of Tsuyoshi. "American Football, eh." He changed the subject, "That's a bit of a rarity around here… what led you to it? Did your dad play?"

Sena chuckled to himself trying to imagine his dad facing down Gaou. "No, my dad is just a quiet, efficient middle-manager. He used to be my aspiration: a simple, down-to-earth, steady job to take care of a wife and kid. Seems kinda weird that now I'm wrapped up in this glamour of Eyeshield 21, right?" His chuckle was a little less humorous now. He shook his head and continued in a warmer tone, "No, I was kind of sort of kidnapped and forced into the game."

"…What?" Takashi's dad asked, flatly.

"Well, it's a funny story, really…."

By the time Sena had wrapped up the story of his freshman year of high school, Tsuyoshi had finished the vegetables and moved onto mixing something with rice flour, and Sena had moved onto a nearby stool to watch idly.

"I'm impressed that you have managed to find anything redeeming in American football, let alone finding it to be your passion. If it were me, I don't think I could continue… then again, these bones are getting rather old." The sushi chef joked. "Is this something you're going to pursue, then? Take it all the way to a profession in the U.S.?" He asked conversationally.

Sena froze a little at the question that seemed to do nothing but haunt him lately. "I'm… not sure." He admitted. "I was offered a position in a relative's company, but apparently it's a rather risky venture and I might not have a job for very long if I take it. But, I guess I don't know whether or not I'll be able to continue football for very long either. It's a high-contact sport and my knees are already taking a beating." He slumped miserably.

Tsuyoshi smiled helplessly. Sometimes, he thought, life was too much to throw at adults, let alone kids. "Cheer up." He ran a flour-covered hand through Sena's hair, ruffling it, and grinned at the resulting yelp and the boy stumbling off the stool and dancing out of his reach. "The future will come soon enough as it is, so just go bother Hayato-kun for now, and enjoy tonight's party later." He advised, already turning around to wash his hands to finish up the last few dishes.

Sena ran his own hands through his hair, trying to shake out the white particles with a faint smile. "Well, that was better than my solution of making a living by selling memorabilia to fanatics like your son…." He pretended to muse.

"Hey, I still have more flour left." Tsuyoshi threw over his shoulder, matching the footballer's faux-serious tone.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Sena raised his hands in surrender and wandered off down the hall.

"Hey, good timing." Gokudera greeted from his seat at a table. "That boxing idiot and his sister are here, go get them some drinks." He ordered, one arm in front of him, tapping his fingers impatiently, the other propping up his chin lazily.

"The Sasagawas!" Sena chirped. "It's great to see you again." He continued walking over to them with a disarming grin, but instead paused beside Gokudera. "As for you," he directed at the silver-hair Italian. "Haven't you ever heard that you're supposed to respect your senpais?" He teased, grabbing his underclassman in a headlock and viciously messing up his carefully arranged hair with a noogie.

"Get the hell off me!" Gokudera demanded, squirming like a pissed-off puppy, batting at Sena's arms. "I'll go, I'll go, you bastard!"

"Thanks, you're so considerate, Hayato-kun." Sena let go and stepped back, arms raised in a non-threatening manner once Gokudera surged to his feet and glared at his upperclassman.

"Hey! What the fuck is up with that apron!"

_Oh, shit._ Sena realized, looking down at the item in question that he had forgotten to remove. "Oh, good point, here you go, thanks for hanging it up." Sena rushed out and shoved Gokudera into the hallway.

His relieved sigh was cut short by a small giggle.

"You two are such good friends." Kyoko smiled behind her palm.

Sena's smile was a little embarrassed and more wavery at the implication that his mild torment was friendship, but he replied gamely: "I guess you could say that. But anyway, come on in. Yamamoto-san is still cooking, but have a seat anywhere." The smile was a little more comfortable now.

"Oh, I'm just about done." Tsuyoshi's voice filled the room, larger than life, like his own presence. He strolled in with an arm around a tray-bearing Gokudera, stubbornly ignoring the boy's not-so-subtle rolling of shoulders in an attempt to dislodge the arm without spilling the tea. "As soon as my Takashi gets here, I'll take off. No one wants an old man ruining their fun." He grinned hugely.

"Or you could go away right now." Grumbled Gokudera.

Kyoko, on the other hand, bowed politely and thanked Yamamoto's dad.

Ryohei smiled down at his little sister fondly and wandered over to where Sena was sitting at the counter, studiously ignoring Gokudera's pointed glances at his upperclassmen and then back down to the tray he was still holding.

"You'll probably feel _extremely_ alone tonight, senpai, being surrounded by middle-schoolers, won't you?" Ryohei inquired with genuine curiosity.

"Naw." Sena shook his head amiably. "Hayato-kun invited—and the invitation was confirmed by Yamamoto-san—the rest of the Devil-Bat's tonight, since we're Takashi's favorite team. It might be a little awkward, though." He worried his bottom lip, remembering the confrontation that had taken placed after the game and his discussion in the park with Juumonji just this morning.

"Wh…?"

Ryohei's attempt to voice his confusion was interrupted by a voice fretting: "Am I too early?"

Sena leaned (with no little chagrin) _around _the younger, taller boxer to see who had just come in.

"Haru-chan!" Kyoko squealed with glee. "Oh, and you brought Lambo and IPin too! You're so clever, how did you sneak them away from Sawada-kun's house without letting Yamamoto-kun know?" She rushed over to her friend and held her arms open in an offer to hold IPin.

Lambo, on the other hand, made a bee-line for Sena. He stopped just shy of the high-schooler's pant leg and glared up at him balefully. "Sweet." He demanded, thrusting a hand forward impetuously.

"Hm." Sena hummed teasingly, and crouched down to be closer to eye level. "Have you been good today?"

"Lambo is always good! Lambo is the best!" The toddler declared, thrusting his arm that had been waiting for candy into the air haphazardly, making Sena sway back to dodge an upper-cut.

Ryohei snorted a little in amused admiration.

"Well…" Sena pretended to think it over, but before he could come to a "conclusion" he heard IPin chime in from Kyoko's arms. "IPin-chan, I don't…" He started to apologize, but was cut off again, this time by Lambo himself.

"Shut up stupid-IPin, those times don't count! And the cat deserved it! Plus, it was _three _whole shoes, so _there_!" He stuck out his tongue and was struck from behind by a very tailored Italian loafer.

"No: You shut up, noisy cow." Reborn retorted, and climbed up Sena. "Ciaossu." He greeted, as though there weren't a teary cow baby below him, blubbering out a mantra of toleration. "Don't worry about him, Maman took away the bazooka. So, are you all packed for Italy?"

Sena's head spun at the pace of the conversation.

"Sena! Hey!" Monta called out over the rising din.

Sena straightened and waved back as well as he could. It looked like Monta had just arrived with the huh-huh brothers and Taki. "Where's everybody else?" He called back.

"Oh," Ryohei answered absentmindedly, "Hibari hates crowds, Chrome and Mukuro would only try to possess us, Bi… Oh. OH, you weren't talking to me at all, were you, senpai? Really, you need to look at who you're talking to properly, or misunderstandings like this will happen." He scolded.

Sena stared up at his taller underclassman as balefully as Lambo just had. It really sucked being one of the shortest in the room.

Monta slipped past Haru and Kyoko chatting about what kind of cake Yamamoto-san had chosen and joined Sena's small group. "Kurita-san and Komusubi are coming, Musashi and Yukimitsu too… Hiruma, though," He hesitated, "he's still up in the air, so to speak."

"Why?" Ryohei cut in, "Is he still _EXTREMELY_ pissed about the first half yesterday?"

"What?" Monta questioned. "Oh, no." He answered both himself and Ryohei dismissively. "No, we got our win, and it wasn't even a hat trick like most of our games last year. Usually he's pleased as long as we've won and we're not all banged up."

"So what happened yesterday?" Ryohei asked intently.

"SHUT UP YOU FUCKING MORONS!" Gokudera's evil roar saved both Sena and Monta. "The tenth just called and said he's bringing that fucking baseball moron now. So shut the fuck up and get out of my fucking sight."

Sena cringed a little, knowing that his teasing was part of why Gokudera was so extra annoyed.

"Hayato of course means," Tsuyoshi cut it, yanking the boy in question down off of the chair that he had so rudely stood upon and yelled, "That Takashi is on his way, so let's all be quiet and hide to surprise him!" He finished with a kind of dangerous cheerfulness.

Lambo whimpered one last time before shamelessly attaching himself to Sena's leg.

"Er… Right." Ryohei agreed. "Com'on, senpai, we'll find an _extremely_ good place to hand." He groped at Sena's arm until he managed to grip the jacket's sleeve, still not tearing his eyes off of that smile, while he backed slowly away with the running-back, cow-baby, Italian hitman, and receiver in tow.

Quietly, all the small groups broke up or drifted off out of the door's direct sightline and stood in a tense, awkward silence until they heard the affable whispering of the younger Yamamoto approaching the shop. The group would have breathed a collective sigh of relief if not for the older Yamamoto holding a finger up to lips stretched in an almost deranged manner as a shushing gesture.

Perversely, Sena wished Hiruma were there.

"Daaa~ad! I'm hoooo~ome." Takashi called as he slid the door open.

With a wave of his hand, Tsuyoshi released hoards of his son's friends upon him.

"SURPRISE!" They all chorused, taking even Tsuna, who had known beforehand, aback.

"Awwa," Takashi cooed, "You guys are the greatest! Look!" He called out, wading through the crowd to Sena and slinging an arm around him. "You even got me the perfect present! How did you all know I wanted a running back for my birthday?" He joked amid amused laughter.

"No." A small voice called up, making Takashi drop his gaze to look for the source. "He's Lambo's. He has candy."

"Well," Yamamoto countered gravely, "I'll trade you this guy for some cake, deal?"

Lambo stared at him doubtfully, but nodded.

"Oh, Sena-nii!"

The older brunet looked around for his younger brother, but it would seem that Tsuna shared his curse of a height-deficiency. "…Tsukun?" He asked doubtfully, lifting up on the tips of his toes to stretch for a better view.

There was a small, indignant sound, and Ryohei raised his hands and shifted farther away from Yamamoto to let his boss join their small circle. "There you are, Sena-nii." He sighed in exasperation. "Thanks for ditching me, by the way," he made a face at and elbowed Yamamoto, "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that Hiruma-san was just a block or two behind us on the way here, so he should be walking in soon." Tsuna provided helpfully.

Sena could _feel_ the blood draining from his face. "Aa." He answered shakily. "T-thanks for letting me know, Tsukun."

"…Did you fight with Hiruma-senpai, Sena-senpai?" Yamamoto asked quietly, leaning in obnoxiously close to Sena's face.

The running back raised a hand and batted away the swordsman's head. "It's fine, it's fine. Go say bye and thanks to your dad; he was talking about taking off soon." He commanded and squirmed out of the taller boy's reach.

Yamamoto let out his usual cheery laugh and squeezed through the crowd. Sena couldn't help but notice that through it all, his eyes showed concern instead of mirth.

"You did, didn't you?" Tsuna asked, eyeing his brother critically. "You fought with Hiruma-san."

"He and Monta-senpai were _EXTREMELY_ worried earlier when they were talking about him." Ryohei cut in, probably more out of curiosity than any real desire to be helpful.

Sena ignored them both, and lifted his leg with a squealing Lambo still attached to it. "You should go play with Kyoko-chan." He told the boy conversationally. "Reborn-kun already left," _Though it was probably to gobble up the sushi_, he didn't bother saying, "and I'll bet he gets all the cake if you don't hurry."

With a horrified gasp, Lambo dropped to the floor and scampered off.

"Why'd you send him away?" Tsuna asked. "He _is_ Thunder… I thought you'd send, er, well…"

"That's why they're fighting." Monta cut in quickly, moving over to lean against Sena's shoulder. "He told us everything yesterday."

"WHAT?" Tsuna shrieked, making the crowd's noise die down, and heads swivel to them. He laughed awkwardly. "I… I think we should somewhere to sit and talk about this." He offered lamely.

Sena nodded, and moved to the larger booths with Monta at his side. As he made his way there, he noticed Yamamoto ducking his head back in and Gokudera determinately moving to intersect his boss' course. Well, at least the probably meant that Yamamoto-san was gone.

Sena nodded at Takashi and jerked his head over to indicate that the group was moving to the tables, then slid into the booth farthest from the crowd. Monta slid in next to him, and after a moment of hesitation, Tsuna took the seat directly across from with Gokudera next to him. Ryohei shrugged, and sat next to Monta, leaving the last spot of the six-person booth to Yamamoto.

"Well," Sena started once everyone had settled, and after he'd managed to settle his nerves due to the instant focus on him. "I told Hiruma—Well, I told everyone on the team—because if—when I do go to Italy I'll be leaving the team for a significant amount of time. And though I know it wasn't my secret to tell, I respect my team too much to throw bullshit at them and hope it sticks." Sena raised his chin defiantly.

Tsuna bowed his head and let out an aggravated sigh while vigorously rubbing his hair, messing it up worse than usual in a visible display of frustration.

"Fuck."

The language startled Sena, though he understood just why his brother would use it.

"This is such a clusterfuck." Gokudera agreed.

"I… I can't really fault you." Tsuna sighed into his palms. "The team makes up so much of your life now that if you suddenly disappeared and then came back with scars and weird new reflexes. It would just make more of a mess, especially if we couldn't contain their investigation and they got caught up in the middle of something."

Gokudera stared at his boss in awe.

"At least this way we have the upper-hand in action, even if they have the upper-hand in information."

Gokudera glowed in delight.

"Er, well, I guess. I mean, if that made any sense."

Gokudera gave a little shrug as though to say, 'Eh, close enough,' then stepped in. "Still, it's fucking bullshit that you're sharing _our_ fucking secrets with a dozen fucking people!" Gokudera scolded.

"Hey, Tsuna just said no harm no foul." Yamamoto cut in.

"You would jump to his fucking defense, wouldn't you, you brown-nosing fucker." Gokudera bit back.

"Well, now, I'm not sure that's fair." The swordsman retorted carefully, his eyes gleaming oddly in the light.

"Ah, Takashi-kun, I had forgotten. Your present is in my bag that's hanging in the kitchen." Sena cut in quickly, "Would you go get it for me, please?"

Yamamoto's eyes didn't leave Gokudera's, but he nodded tersely, and stood up. "Sure, senpai. I'll be right back."

Both Tsuna and Sena let out a low breath of relief.

"Uh." Monta said. "I think I'll just go grab some food. Want anything, Sena?" He forged through the awkward silence, and nudged Ryohei.

"I'll give you a hand to the _EXTREME._" The boxer agreed, and slid out, followed by Monta.

Sena watched them disappear into the crowd for a bit, then dropped his head onto the table with an audible thump. "I really am sorry." Sena told the table. "I just… I couldn't. If it helps, I didn't say it was you. Just someone important. Though, only Taki is too dumb to put 'old friend back in your life' and 'sudden induction into the mafia' together."

"I understand." Tsuna sighed, and reached across the table to fuss with Sena's hair for a change. His scalp was getting sore from his half-hearted attempts to pull out his own hair from stress. "Gokudera, will you find Reborn, please?" He prompted.

"Yeah, boss." The bomber answered gruffly, inwardly delighted that despite the clusterfuck, the 10th Generation of the Vongola was already having its first council of war.

"Reborn?" Sena sighed, knowing he was in trouble now.

"Don't worry," Tsuna reassured, stroking a hand through the hair so much like his own, "Yamamoto will be back with your bag before Gokudera is, so that was pretty much to make him step aside and cool down a little. Don't get me wrong, this is a pretty big issue, but I think he's still over-blowing it a little since he quit smoking."

"Why send him after Reborn then?" Sena glanced up from his prone position sprawled across the table, but didn't bother to lift his head.

"If Reborn didn't already know all about this, I'll eat all of Bianchi's poison cooking. There is next to nothing involving the Vongola that he doesn't know about, and he has an uncanny sixth sense for information. He would have been at the booth before us if the information you just told us was new to him."

"Eat up to the MAX!" Monta offered as he set a full plate in front of both Sena and Tsuna, before turning around to accept a plate for himself from Ryohei. "Yamamoto's dad made so much food that even Kurita and Komusubi are full!" He exclaimed as he reclaimed his seat next to Sena and Ryohei slid in next to Tsuna.

Sena sat up and looked around to attempt to verify Monta's claim, but ended up shrugging and snapping a pair of disposable chopsticks apart.

"Thanks for the food!" They all chorused, then dug in. Yamamoto's dad really was an excellent chef.

"Here, senpai, your bag." Yamamoto jogged up. "I also grabbed a platter of my favorite and a few extra plates, so you all can try it." He grinned, handing over the items and taking a seat next to Ryohei so he could see Sena's face.

"Thanks!" Sena smiled, and immediately opened the bag to find the envelope addressed to the baseball star. "It's actually from both Monta and me," he confided conspiratorially as he handed it over.

Curiously, Yamamoto looked down at the large manila envelope that had his name written on the front in Sena's usual untidy scrawl. His curiosity was becoming all-consuming, so he dropped his chopsticks and carefully broke the seal on the back. Cautiously, he slid out the heavy paper and looked down at the glossy surface. Staring back at him was all his heroes wrapped up in an almost candid snapshot: Sena and Monta were fighting, Sena in a headlock and wiggling furiously, trying to get away. The star running back's face was full of indignation due to Monta trying to squish his cheeks and pull them apart. Monta himself was smiling a face-splitting grin, obviously loving time spent with his best friends and the people he, himself, greatly admired. Almost involuntarily it seemed, Taka Honjou was laughing at their antics. It seemed as though he had brought his face up just in time for the flash, if the slight blur and slighter surprise was any indication. His father, the older Honjou—the national baseball superstar!—had an arm around his son, and the other arm making a peace sign over the struggling boys' head. Perched on the edge of the sofa, just off center, the infamous Osakan Yamato looked off-balanced and amused, smiling a small, fond smile down at his best friends.

Best of all—Oh, yes! It did manage to get better!—was the five signatures at the bottom of the photo, all the way from Sena's shaky, uncertain one to Honjou's polished, professional one.

"I know it was pretentious to have us in the photo, and to sign it too, but Honjou-san was really, really unreasonable, and—"

"Speak for yourself," Monta cut the terrified Sena off flippantly. "Keep that, kid, my autograph will be worth millions someday." He joked.

Yamamoto attempted to dive across the table.

"Hey!" Monta and Ryohei chorused: Monta reaching to save plates and Ryohei trying to hold the birthday boy back.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you…" He chanted with a solemn single-mindedness, arms still reaching to hug more of his hero.

Slightly creeped out, Sena patted one of the arms half-grasping his and smiled slight smile accompanied by an incomplete shrug. "It wasn't that big of a deal… I was a little embarrassed that I was giving you such a cheap present." He admitted with the beginnings of a blush starting to creep up his cheeks. "You're surprisingly hard to shop for, Takashi-kun." He ran a hand over his hot cheeks sheepishly.

"No, it's perfect." Takashi beamed, reaching farther with greedy, grasping fingers.

"You really shouldn't feed his obsession." Gokudera chastised as he approached the table once more. His face was still screwed up in a frown, but it was much milder now that he held Reborn in his arms. If there was anyone other than his boss that Gokudera put his trust in, it was the tiny hitman. The bomber glanced at his rival's gift. "More baseball shit," he scoffed, and set Reborn down on the table.

"Well, as long as he likes it…" Sena hedged, rubbing his face more, as though he could simply wipe away his blush.

"Shut up." Yamamoto cut in, not looking at Sena, but with full ferocity at his abrasive classmate. "Sena-senpai gave it to me and it's perfect, and shut up." He glared.

Gokudera rocked back on his heels, then looked annoyed at having been taken aback. "Well, fuck you too. If you don't take this seriously, why the fuck should I take your shit seriously?"

"Shut UP!" Yamamoto's easy-going façade shattered as he surged to his feet, and ended up directly in Gokudera's space. "I take what I need to seriously; you don't get to decide what those things are for me." He retorted furiously, gesturing wildly at the photo, and narrowly missing an oddly silent, observant Reborn.

"Guys." Tsuna cut in quietly. "Guys, let's take this outside."

Belatedly, Sena glanced around, finally able to drag his eyes from the confrontation, and found that while Tsuna's friends were doing and admirable job distracting Sena's friends and the other miscellaneous guests that had nothing or next-to-nothing to do with the mafia, reassuring them that this type of "bickering" was normal for the two, and doing almost hiding their own concerned glances.

The knowledge that he had caused this blow-up: the escalation from friction to true animosity, made Sena shrink into himself, feeling small and awful. Reborn seemed to notice and nonchalantly patted Sena's arm.

"I won't say that this doesn't have anything to do with you; bluntly, you're the catalyst. This has been a long time coming, but I don't know how it would have exploded if you hadn't come along. See? Even coward Tsuna knew that this was going to happen eventually. Take what comfort you can from that." He informed confidently, before scaling Sena's arm and giving his shoulder a pointed little kick to direct the relatively taller boy to slide out after Monta, wave off his friend's concerned nudge, and follow the Vongola's mainstay trio out.

True to Reborn's words, Tsuna's eyes were resolved even as his body betrayed him by trembling slightly in fear while he watched the duo exit just after him. It came as something of a surprise that one of them hadn't managed to calm down when they consciously faced what they were about to do while heading for the dingy back alley, out of the eyes of friends and friends of friends. In fact, they'd managed to maintain the same level of hostility as they left the restaurant as when Yamamoto had first gotten into Gokudera's face. It might have had something to do with the barbs that Yamamoto was actually responding to for the first time. Every quiet, muttered "baseball freak" was met with a "psychopathic stalker", and every "idiot" was met with an "asshole". Even Gokudera lighting up a cigarette and giving into his nicotine addiction hadn't calmed him.

The alley stunk of rotting fish, both expired ingredients and customer refuse from the bins, and Sena could hear wild urban animals foraging in the semi-darkness, lending a creepy, nauseating air to a situation that was already making him queasy with dread.

Still wretched with guilt, Sena opened his mouth to try to diffuse the situation, but found himself unable to even squeak out a sound, his mouth dry and his heart racing at the danger. Not only was shit about to go down, for real, but between two _very _dangerous individuals. Sena vaguely knew that they had less than legal skills, but for them to be the top two associated with the reluctant Vongola heir…

"You…" Sena licked his lips and cleared his throat before trying again. He met Tsuna's concerned but resolved gaze, and noted but dismissed the firm, short shake of his head, warning his big brother that this wasn't something Sena should get into. He couldn't see Reborn's matching warning from the toddler's perch, but he could feel the disapproval radiating.

Sena couldn't help it, though, he knew that no matter what, this was going to end badly, and it was his fault.

"I am _so_ sorry."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP." Gokudera roared, rounding on Sena. "Yeah, it is your fucking fault. If you're truly sorry then go the fuck away and never come back!"

"You go away!" Yamamoto's temper finally snapped and he shoved Gokudera back. "You think everything revolves around your stupid fucking mafia honor? Newsflash: _you're still a fucking criminal_."

Gokudera tried to lunge, but was held back by Tsuna's firm grip on the back of his hoodie.

"So help me, Tenth." Gokudera snarled eyes firmly on the swordsman, whose hands were clenching and unclenching as though he were seeking a sword not on him.

"We need ground rules." Tsuna cut in, fishing through is pockets with a spare hand. He pulled out a little pill bottle but then looked perplexed on how to reach the contents one-handed. The Ninth's heir cast as cautious, suspicious glance at Gokudera, before releasing his grip and shook out a pill. He carefully tucked the bottle away and started rummaging around for his mittens.

"Tsukun wh—"

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Gokudera roared, smoothly rounding on Sena and lighting a stick of dynamite. He reared back to throw it at the running back, but was stunned by a quick and dirty rabbit punch to the back of his head.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE THREATEN SENA." Yamamoto raged, leading Sena to rock back away from the primal, vicious tone. Just in time, too: he narrowly avoided getting sideswiped by a wide attack. It seemed that Yamamoto had found something in the rubbish to use in place of a sword, he noted numbly. Sena cried out as the fuse on Gokudera's dynamite burned ever lower and the unidentified makeshift weapon arced closer to the Italian's temple.

Quite out of the blue, the fuse was snuffed out with one hand, and the weapon was nonchalantly caught.

"I was going to say," Tsuna noted with dry humor, "that we should set ground rules. Like, you know: no weapons."

Sena stared in shock. He'd seen Tsuna in battle mode, once, and while seriously hurting, but this Tsuna was mellow as the sky on a lazy day, his eyes half-lidded and nonchalantly subduing his two closest guardians with one hand each.

"Boss… Don't get in the way." Gokudera hissed.

"No worries." Tsuna had a lazy smirk on his face. "Reborn's right: this has been a long time coming, but seriously. This could get too big, too fast with flames. If you idiots are sure you want to duke this out, then use your fists like big boys. Think of that as an order, if you must." He directed that last bit at Gokudera.

Sena didn't see who swung first, once Tsuna had moved away, all he could see was a blur of fists and if he hadn't had Reborn's tiny fingers digging painfully into his shoulder, he probably would have thrown himself into the thick of it to separate the two.

It just seemed _wrong_ to stand by and watch two of his friends attacking each other like rabid dogs.

_What happened to the quiet life I led? _He lamented rhetorically, _What happened to my fear of pain that drove my life for so long? What happened to Tsuna's peace? He looks so bored. Maybe it's the mafia Dying Will thing, or maybe it's so tame a fight compared to the life-or-death battles they've been fighting. Gods, do I ever want to become so desensitized to this kind of brawl? Yamamoto's lip is split, and Gokudera is favoring his left hand like he's broken a finger. Shit, look at all the blood._

Gokudera got a good shot in at Yamamoto's unprotected stomach, but paid for it with a vicious kick to the Italian's side.

To say the fight was inelegant would be a courtesy. It was a street brawl; two idiot kids throwing punches blindly. Any trace of the polished Mafioso warriors were stripped away by the heat of their blinding resentment. It was stupid, it was more than stupid: it was stupidity and testosterone all rolled up into one fucked up, raged-fueled clusterfuck.

And the lack of form was obvious; more than it simply not being pretty, the wide punches and half-assed kicks were energy-inefficient, burning out the fight as surely as the fighters. The punches grew more and more sluggish, and their forms more and more sloppy until they were both sprawled out, panting, bleeding and bruised in the badly lit, filthy alley way. Despite much of their anger having seeped out with each hit, the sill managed to minimize contact with one another in the narrow space.

"I hate you, you know." Yamamoto commented as casually as he could manage around heavy breaths and aching bones.

Tsuna glanced over at them suspiciously from where he was pointedly ignoring the two idiots and idly explaining Dying Will and Hyper Dying Will to a shaky Sena, and Gokudera tensed, but Yamamoto ignored them and continued.

"I hate that you so casually devote your life to Tsuna and the mafia. Seriously. I used to be like that. I used to live for baseball. Then, eventually, I hit a training plateau. I wasn't losing skill, but I couldn't improve, either."

"Shut up." Gokudera grunted, obviously not wanting to hear any more about baseball.

"No: shut up and listen. I actually talked to Tsuna, for the first time really, about it. He gave me some trite answer about working hard or some shit," it was Yamamoto's turn to grunt as Gokudera kicked at him for the insult. He kicked back and continued.

"ANYway." His glare probably couldn't be seen, but he couldn't hold it back. "So, I took his advice. What could it hurt, right? Well, other than my damn arm." He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "I absolutely shattered it while doing extra practice. I don't really hold it against him," Yamamoto hastily reassured, "I mean, it could have happened anytime, it's not exactly chess club, but... baseball was my everything. Like mafia is for you now. The next time I spoke to Tsuna, it was on the roof of the school, with the fence between us."

That bitter laugh was back at Gokudera alarmed jolt.

"Yeah. Long story short: Tsuna is literally, physically the reason I can still bleed. I'm... I don't know. Jealous? Scared? I don't know. All I know is I can't _devote_ myself again. Not right now. I... Can't."

Gokudera casually let his leg brush against Yamamoto's.

"That's fucking stupid. You have everything." There was bitterness and raw longing not quite hidden in Gokudera's voice. "You have a team, you have a passion, you have a stupidly fantastic relationship with your dad. You have a million fucking friends, for Christ's sake, why did you go to the boss?"

"You can be alone in a crowd." Yamamoto rejoined. "At the risk of being cliché, you can have dozens of friends and still not have a single person to talk to. Why do you think I smile so much? Even an idiot can't be that happy all the time." He finished quietly. "And dad... Before all this, the sword was a huge gap, an unforgivable, unbridgeable gap between us. I guess the mafia has given me something." His lips twisted into a smile at the irony.

"You've got your arm back, you've got that guy," Gokudera jerked his hear to indicate Sena, "To train you out of your plateau now. You can just go back to sports, full time. No one will stop you." He challenged obstinately.

"I can't." Yamamoto replied quietly. "Not after the sword. Not after learning the difference between the thrill of winning a ball game and winning a fight by _surviving._ I've always known I was passionate. Too passionate, too focused on things I like. But the rush from fighting, the rush from _living _rather than just chasing a ball… it's intense."

"The mafia isn't a game!" Gokudera hissed, "You can't just treat it as a new hobby to focus on. We break laws; we _fucking kill people_, Yamamoto."

A quick, inappropriate smile twisted across Namimori's star athlete'sface before slipping away just as quickly. "I know you don't understand me, just like I don't understand you, but know this: when Tsuna needs me, I _will_ be there. No matter what. Even if I'm pitching at Kyoshin, I'll be there before he even knows he needs help." He vowed.

Gokudera coughed hollowly. "Good enough. For now." He murmured as he levered himself up and turned away. He took a couple steps forward before he hesitated and half turned back.

Before Yamamoto could even raise an eyebrow at the odd behavior, a hand was thrust into his face.

And, under the watchful eyes of the tenth generation Vongola boss and the most promising athlete of his generation, Yamamoto grinned his brightest, truest grin, and accepted the hand up.

* * *

I literally cannot believe I have finally finished this chapter. Yeah, this took forever to get out. I REFUSE TO GUILT, THOUGH.


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